


Right From The Start

by Vyshxox



Category: Hollywood U: Rising Star
Genre: F/M, Romance, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:33:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 53,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29682630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vyshxox/pseuds/Vyshxox
Summary: We've all read the story of Professor Thomas Hunt and Jane Doe. Masquerade balls and date auctions, dinner parties, trials and a whole lot of romance.But the real story? Yeah, it's a lot messier than you think.THIS is the real story. And you'll need to buckle down for it.
Relationships: Thomas Hunt/Main Character, Thomas Hunt/Main Character (Hollywood U), Thomas Hunt/Original Character(s), Thomas Hunt/Original Female Character(s), Thomas Hunt/Reader, Thomas Hunt/You
Comments: 14
Kudos: 7





	1. Impulse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Budiamond](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Budiamond/gifts), [alicexcx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicexcx/gifts), [KairouWatoshimi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KairouWatoshimi/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey hey! Welcome to this fanfic. 
> 
> There's no way in hell I'm going to abandon this one, and I'm going to do my absolute best to make it read-worthy. 
> 
> Spoiler alert: This fic aligns with the original Hwu storyline, then diverges, then merges, then diverges again! I promise it'll all be worth it <3

It’s Friday afternoon, and you’re sitting with Addison in the middle of Professor Hunt’s class. As usual, Addison is half-listening, half-doodling in her notebook. The notebook itself is already stuffed to the spine, and you wonder how Addison even managed to find a page to sketch on. You yourself are half-listening, and subtly working on an unfinished piece for your screenwriting course. 

A little snap goes off on your head, reminding you to transition back to the ‘half-listening’ portion and lift your gaze back to Professor Hunt. 

Immediately you wish you hadn’t, because he’s turned around scribbling away at the chalkboard, his muscles bulging through his dress shirt. It almost makes you laugh, how oblivious Hunt was when it came to the little things he did. More specifically, how attractive he looked while doing them. 

_ Annnndd stop right there, Jane.  _ You stifle a laugh, surprised at how bored you must be.  _ That’s enough eccentric dreaming for you! _

“-And that is why we’re discussing the decline of romantic comedy, a genre that relies all too often on an unbelievable formula.” Hunt places the chalk down and turns to the class. He has the same stern look he always has, except you can tell that there’s an extra bit of spark in his eyes, meaning that he really was trying to emphasize what he was saying.

He went on. “How often have you seen the two lead characters spend most of a movie fighting with each other… only to end up together in the end because of some ill-established passion? Real love is nothing like that.”

_ Real love, huh? _

You wonder if he’s speaking from experience. 

You nudge Addison lightly, making sure not to get caught and lower your voice to a whisper. “Can you imagine someone loving Hunt? Or even dating him?”

As crazy it would usually sound, you could actually imagine it. There were moments over the time you’ve been at Hollywood U where you’ve seen the softer side of Hunt, as rare as it could be. You reckon he must act like that full-time if he was in a relationship. That, or you were totally wrong and it would always be endless criticism with him. 

You cringe at the latter. You would definitely not want to be a part of that. Especially since you got enough of it in class. 

Unlike you, Addison doesn’t hesitate to answer. “No!” She wrinkles her nose at the prospect. “It’d be like dating an angry bear.” You giggle, and quickly clamp your mouth. You peek at Hunt to see if he noticed. It didn’t look like he had. He was still droning on about some popular tropes in romantic comedies that have caused the downfall of the genre. 

“I heard he’s single, unsurprisingly.” says Addison. 

It isn’t that surprising to you either. Hunt didn’t seem like the type of person to open up to people quickly. It took you a full year to even convince him that you weren’t a reckless student with no direction. 

It didn’t help that you were on probation, crashed a tank, and went against Anders Stone in the same year. But that was all in the past now. Mostly. 

“He probably has crazy high standards.” You agree. “Do you think he has a type?”

She snorts. “Yeah, if perfect is a type. Like, someone with a model hot body, a mind as sharp as a stiletto, and a Hollywood career that’s skyrocketing.”

You can’t say that you disagree. You jokingly tease, “So someone like me!”

You meant it as a joke, but Addison’s jaw drops in surprise. 

“Shut up! Are you thinking about making a move on Hunt?” She covers her mouth to hide her smile, and she raises her eyebrow at you. “Jane! Have you lost it?! Not only is he our professor, but last I checked, he kinda sorta hates your guts!”

Even though you were initially joking, you feel a little funny inside when Addison talks about making a move on Hunt. You feel your stomach churn at the thought. 

“I was just joking!” Your face starts to burn up. You give Addison a light shove as she giggles.

_ Damn it! Why am I acting weird?  _

_ I was just joking. _

_ So what’s gotten into me? _

Addison, upon seeing your confused expression, waves her hand to get your attention back. “Okay,” she says. “You want to know what life is like dating Hunt? It’d be like getting graded all the time… he’d be judging your outfit, insulting your conversation, critiquing your kissing technique!”

She lowers her voice to sound like Hunt. “‘I’ve seen more believable kisses on The Bachelor, Jane!’”

The voice, the accuracy, it’s too much for you to handle. You laugh out loud, gaining looks from the other students and unfortunately, drawing Hunt’s irate glare.

He crosses his arms, something you know he always does when he’s about to yell at a student. You know this, because you’ve gotten it. Alot. 

He doesn’t disappoint now. “Jane! Is something amusing? Perhaps you’d like to finish off my lecture on the difficulty of realistically portraying love?”

You hear someone stifle a giggle, and you realize it’s Bianca, laughing along with Jenni. You didn’t know what her problem was, when she often was on the other end of Hunt’s criticisms too. Usually if he wasn’t shouting at you, he was shouting at her. 

Hunt waits for your response, his stare daring you to fight back with him. A part of you actually does want to fight back, just a little. You happen to know a lot about romantic comedies, since you’ve acted in a lot of projects of that genre. 

But as much as you want to, you know that you were technically in the wrong for disrupting the class. It was risky to get on Hunt’s bad side, especially since you’d work so hard to get to a neutral zone.

You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and grin apologetically at Hunt. “Sorry, Professor! It won’t happen again, I promise.”

Hunt rolls his eyes and relaxes his arms a bit. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Jane. It only hurts your education as well as the other students in the classroom.”

Classic Hunt. He can’t let you off easy, although it’s actually much lighter than you anticipated. 

You respond with a quick nod, and go back to taking notes as Hunt continues. 

_ He must be in a good mood, you think. _ If he’s letting me off easy. _ I wonder what’s up.  _

You and Addison behave like good little students for the rest of the class. Not for the sake of getting caught again, but because you both know that Hunt is keeping a special eye on you, and it’s fun to see his expectations subverted. 

“-And in conclusion,” Hunt says, after taking a breath. “Once a genre full of heart, the majority of romantic comedies have descended into farce bereft of true emotion. Class dismissed. Except for Jane. Come see me. We need to talk.”

And just like that, you realize you’re not off the hook just yet. You should have known Hunt wouldn’t be the one to let go so easily. 

Addison offers to wait until you’re done, but you tell her to go on ahead without you. Her next class is with Priya Singh, and you don’t want Addision to go through what you’re about to experience if she ends up late because of you. 

On her way out she waves to you. “Good luck, Jane! Hope you’re not in too much trouble…”

“I’ll be fine,” you insist with a bright smile. “I can handle Hunt.”

_ Except if he bulges those damn muscles of his. Then I’ll get into trouble for a different reason.  _

When everyone is gone, you approach Professor Hunt’s desk. He’s rearranging some papers, and you can see dark red ink all over them. 

“Just a second Jane,” he says, and stacks them up neatly. 

_ They’re student papers, _ you realize.  _ For his next class.  _

_ Holy crap, it looks like there’s blood all over them! _

_ He’s gonna make students cry, I know it.  _

_ To be fair, it’s not like that’s ever his concern.  _

Then, something else catches your eye. Near the corner of the desk, you see a ticket that says ‘5th Annual Los Angeles Charity Masquerade’.

_ Hunt at a masquerade ball? That’s certainly not something you see every day.  _

“A masquerade ball, huh?” You can’t help but ask. “That sounds very romantic.”

Professor Hunt puts his papers aside and glares up at you. Up close, his glare is much more effective. It’s not quite smoldering, but it's definitely making your heart pound. 

_ Dammit, Jane! Get a hold of yourself.  _

You bite your tongue as he responds. “Only someone delusional looks for love at a charity masquerade ball.” Hunt scoffs, but he looks more irritated at the invite than you. “This is merely an obligation.”

“So… no date, then?” You joke, trying to keep things light.

It somehow works, and Hunt shakes his head. “A date would require me to spend the entire evening there. I can’t imagine anything worse. I’ll be leaving as soon as I’ve made my donation to the cause.”

_ Only Hunt could put a damper on a Charity Ball event!  _

_ Man, I would kill to go to one of those.  _

Hunt straightens his back and refocuses his attention on you. “But I didn’t call you up here to discuss my social calendar, Jane. I wanted to talk about your behavior in class.”

You stiffen, clearly being caught. 

_ Dammit!  _

_ Almost got away with it.  _

“But I was just--”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. It is unacceptable to disrupt my lecture. Save your chit chat for your own time, understand?” He says sternly, with a stone-like expression. He’s mastered the look so well that you couldn’t imagine it ever breaking. 

“Yes, Professor.” You’ve been through this millions of times before, and you know that the only way to get out of a ‘Hunt Scolding’ fast, is to accept defeat when necessary. There were times to fight, but you’ve learned to pick your battles. 

Hunt nods nonchalantly. “Good. You can go now.”

You’re about to leave him be, but you hesitate. There’s something you still want to say. 

“Jane?” Hunt realizes that you haven’t left yet. “Is there something you need? Or are you merely staying in hope that I give you a tardy slip for your next class?” He narrows his eyes. “I can assure you right now, that I will not. It is up to you to maintain that attendance.”

“Who do you think I am?” You retort. “Bianca?”

He blinks. “How did you know that Miss Stone-”

You wave dismissively. “Call it a lucky guess. But anyway, that wasn’t what I wanted to say.”

“Well?” He folds his hands together. “Go on then. Don’t keep me waiting.”

You’re caught off guard by his willingness to listen. You take this opportunity and a deep breath. 

“I-um…” You murmur, and then shake your head. 

_ Confidence, Jane! What’s wrong with you? _

There usually isn’t any problem with your confidence; you have it in the spades. There’s just something about Hunt that always manages to cause your boldness to waver every so often. Not so much that it always  _ stopped  _ you from doing or saying something, but it was enough to make you think twice at times.

You push forward. “What you said earlier, about the difficulty of realistically portraying love…”

“Yes,” Hunt says expectantly, clearly a little frustrated that you’re holding back. 

“I wanted to know if such a thing really is difficult,” you burst out. 

Hunt doesn’t move, and waits for you to continue. “What I mean is,” you continue. “I feel like portraying love shouldn’t be difficult for someone who’s already experienced it, or at least, a version of it.”

“And what about portraying someone else’s idea of love?” Hunt tilts his head. “If you are an actor, your version of love may not be the same as your characters, or the directors. What do you propose you do then?”

You think about it for a moment. “I guess that really wouldn’t matter though, wouldn’t it?”

“I disagree,” Hunt immediately says. “But tell me, how so?”

He leans forward a bit, and you do your best to not stare at his jawline. “Um… I guess I meant that sure, the details of that stuff has to be portrayed differently, but at its core, doesn’t all love have the same features? The unconditional feeling, that urgent need to be with the one you love… Isn’t that what it’s all about?”

When you finish, you meet Hunt’s gaze and find that he’s taken aback by your answer. He stares at you for a few moments, eyebrows furrowed, like he’s trying to figure you out. The funny feeling you felt inside earlier returns and doubles. It’s enough to make you hold your breath. 

At the corner of Hunt’s mouth slips out a ghost of a small smile, which he quickly covers up with a scowl. “If this was a paper and that was the way you described it to me, it wouldn’t get you far in terms of a grade.”

Your face falls, to which he then begrudgingly says, “But I suppose you could be right.”

“What’s that you say?” You say, mood lifted. You place your hand to your ear. “I don’t think I heard that right.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jane,” he sighs, and you see his next class start pooling into the classroom. “Go along now.”

“‘Bye Professor.” You laugh, and practically jog out the door. You have a huge smile on your face, and midway through the door, you look back at him. His arms are crossed again and he’s facing the class as usual. The difference is that his right eye is following you. 

When Hunt catches you catching him watching, he snaps back to the front, as if he was never watching. 

Your next class is with Professor Moriyama, and he was always the kind who would let students walk in half an hour late and not care. That gives you enough time to pull up the site for the masquerade ball on your phone.

Out of all your friends, Lisa and Crash are the most impulsive. After them though, is you. And right now, your heart was in control like never before. 

“There are still tickets left!” You exclaim to yourself, and purchase the VIP one that you figure is the only tier that Hunt would ever consider. 

Before you press ‘Buy’, you question if this is a good idea. 

_ This is for charity _ , a voice chides in your head.  _ Hunt being there is just an added bonus. _

You’ve seen Hunt outside of school before on trips and projects, but you have an overwhelming curiosity to see what he’s like as himself. Off the clock. 

_ Plus, you’ve never attended a freaking masquerade ball before… _

Your thumb clicks Buy before your head registers it. You immediately get an email confirmation, signaling that it was all happening. 

“Looks like I’ll see my favourite Professor tonight.” You lean against the wall and cross your arms. “This is going to be interesting. Very interesting indeed.” You can’t stop the bright smile that slips out from you. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish more people wrote about Thomas Hunt, but until then I'm making it a promise to actually finish this fanfic :D I don't think it'll be too hard, considering I've technically planned out the whole thing^ 
> 
> But seriously, if anything, I hope this inspires more (new and old) Hunt Stans to write more Hunt fanfics!


	2. On The Hunt

Dressed in your fanciest dress, you arrive at the masquerade. You considered telling Addison about the masquerade (and more importantly, to help choose your outfit), but decided against it. This is something you want all to yourself. This one night, where you were nobody but a stranger. Where everyone is to be strangers to one another. 

A footman at the door hands you a mask with strings, and you put it on. You check yourself out in a nearby mirror.

“With this mask, I could be anyone… well, anyone smokin’ hot that is!” You whisper jokingly to yourself. Humour has always been the thing you’ve used to calm your nerves, and tonight, you need it more than ever.

You head into a packed, Regency-style ballroom. Gold chandeliers decorate ceilings with painted murals, and tables spill over with decadent food and sparkling drinks in crystal flutes. It’s absolutely captivating. 

“Wow, this is incredible!” You murmur, in awe of the sight before you. It’s all surreal, something straight out of a movie. 

Famous actors and big names in the industry gossip at the edges of the room, while couples dance and twirl on the floor. For the most part, though, you can’t tell people apart because of their masks. You can really feel the mystery echo across the ballroom.

A woman in a dark red mask approaches you and touches your arm lightly. 

“Excuse me, but I must say that your ensemble is notably divine!” 

“Thank you. Your dress is exceptional too!” You compliment her back. Your dress is actually something you sort of, well, stole, from a project you had once.

_ The whole thing was cancelled. Someone would have thrown it out if I hadn’t taken it! _

_ At least now I’m putting it to good use.  _

The woman who complimented you smiles. “I would introduce myself, but I suppose the point of tonight is mystery all around.”

“Oh yeah.” You forgot as well. “That’s a shame. So we have to stay in our masks the whole night?”

She gives you a surprised look. “This must be your first time, yes? We always unmask at midnight.”

You raise your eyebrow. “That gives off much of a Cinderella vibe to me.”

“Of course!” The woman laughs. “I suppose it’s a little dramatic, but that’s how the people are around here.”

“Oh!” With that, you suddenly remember. “Please excuse me, but I have to go find someone.”

“Your beau?” She asks, and you blush. 

“Quite the opposite, actually.” You say, rubbing your arm awkwardly. 

_ Even with the masks, it should be easy to spot Hunt’s signature scowl.  _

“Well don’t let me keep you,” she says, and offers you a parting smile. You return the same, and head off to find Hunt. 

In a room full of celebrities and exciting prospects at every turn, you’re not tempted in the slightest to explore any of them farther than the occasional curious gaze.

You have a one track mindset, and that track is set on finding Hunt. 

_ I wonder if he’ll recognize me.  _

_ Of course he will, he’s not dumb. I’ll just say that I got a last minute invite and that I wanted to say hi. _

_ I am wearing my hair differently though.  _

Your hair, which you always wear down, is now pinned up into a fancy bob, with a few strands curled out. You do definitely have a different look than usual, but for someone who is as perceptive as Thomas Hunt, you figure he’ll recognize you almost immediately. 

_ I wonder if he’ll be kind of happy to see me?  _

_ Just as someone to talk to, that is.  _

_ If I were him, I’d want a familiar, and friendly, face around.  _

You enter a smaller but still elegant ballroom, and scan the people within it. You search each and every one of their faces. You know exactly what you’re looking for. Clean shaved, slick but sharp jawline, hair that’s gelled and perfectly intact… If anyone could spot Thomas Hunt in a room full of people, it was you. 

You see a man with a gold mask speaking with another woman, and your heart sinks. From the back, he has the exact physique as Hunt does, and holds himself high. You can’t tell who the woman is, but it doesn’t matter. It’s too late. 

You’re about to leave when the man turns around, and your heart soars. The man, who you can now fully see, isn’t Hunt at all. Although some of the physical features were similar, this man’s face shape isn’t the same. That, and he has a huge smile on his face. 

_ No way in hell is that him. _ You bite your lip, trying not to stare as he laughs at what his partner says. You shake your head and turn away, chuckling at your mistake. 

_ I know he’s in here somewhere, I just need to find him! _

“Drink, Madam?” A waiter turns to you, offering some champagne. 

You shake your head and smile. “No, but thank you.”

She nods. “If you would like a different drink, I suggest the bar.” 

She points over across the room, and your heart nearly stops. 

As fate would have it, the man you were looking for, is now right in your gaze. 

“Thank you,” you tell the waiter. You keep your eyes locked on Hunt. “I might just take you up on that.”

It looks like Hunt has been near the bar all along, resignedly sipping on a drink and watching the ball go on behind a navy blue mask with silver lining. You have no doubt that as much as Hunt said he wasn’t looking forward to the ball, he still put in an effort to look presentable. 

_ Of course, he’s at the most isolated spot in a party. I should have known. _

You head towards him, as if you were drawn in by magnetic force. You realize that you’ve never seen him in anything but work suits, the ones he usually wears to class. The only exception was when you and Addison got him to wear(to his disdain, and later approval) a Prada suit for that Fashion Week trip in New York. 

Now though, he looks classically stunning. So much so that it makes your heart beat louder with every step you take closer to him.

Hunt sips a scotch while sneaking glances at a clock above the bar. 

_ He’s already waiting to leave _ , you think. _ Let’s fix that! _

You grab a drink from a passing waiter and sidle up to him. He doesn’t notice you until you’re right beside him, in which he looks taken aback that you’ve approached him. 

_ Is he surprised because someone has the audacity to come up to him? _

_ Or is it simply because it’s me? _

“You look like you could use some company.” You say, playing it cool. You take a sip of champagne and give Hunt a mysterious smile. 

Any initial surprise that was on his face immediately vanishes. He turns away from you and says, “Depends on whose company it is.”

_ Oohhhhh, playing hardball, huh?  _

_ Fine, let’s play ball.  _

“You’re in luck.” You say smoothly. “It’s mine.”

You’re surprised he hasn’t scowled at the sight of you, or asked why you are here, of all places. 

He makes a disapproving sound. “I have no interest in socializing with a complete stranger.” 

You blink, and only then do you realize that  _ he doesn’t know who you are _ . You thought that he was playing along, trying to keep civil in a public setting. But…

_ He for real doesn’t recognize me! _

Your initial instinct is to laugh and reveal who you really are. To joke about how he couldn’t recognize someone as amazing as his ‘favourite’ student. But there’s a part of you holding back, a part that reminds you why you came in the first place. 

_ One night, where I’m nobody. Where everyone is nobody to each other.  _

_ Where Hunt and I are nobody to each other.  _

Weakly, you tease him. “You don’t mince words, do you?”

He shrugs, showing no regret on his face. “I prefer to be honest. I think it’s much more admirable than being able to put up a front for the sake of someone’s ego.”

Despite your nervousness, his response makes you laugh. “I like that.” You giggle, gaining a intrigued look from him. 

“Are you sure?” He raises an eyebrow at you and tilts his head. “Because I can be  _ very _ honest.”

_ Trust me, Hunt. I know. _

Now it’s your turn to shrug. “Honesty’s refreshing. One thing I’ve learned since I’ve been here… too many people are willing to lie to your face or cheat to get ahead.”

You go over a list of people in your head that have screwed you over in the past. Enemies who have been just that, colleagues that have ripped the rug from right under you, friends that were actually using you to get ahead or for their own agenda. 

“And you’re not one of them?” Hunt says, more of a statement than a question. Like he already believed you weren’t just based on this conversation. 

“No,” you say, and then: “Not yet at least.”

You bite back your tongue, resisting the urge to say that  _ he _ was the one who taught you to be better than that. 

Hunt places his drink aside on a nearby table and crosses his arms. “Here’s some more truth for you, in that case…” 

Uh oh.

He gestures around the two of you. “Everyone here wants to be something. But not everyone here is going to succeed."

“I will.” You say automatically, not even hesitating to say it.

“You sound fairly sure of yourself.” Hunt says, raising a brow.

“I am, but it’s because I’ve never lost sight of my goal.” You turn away from him and face forward. “You’re right, not everyone is going to get what they want. But I know that I have the will and the talent to succeed.”

You get a bit cocky at the end there, but you stand by your words. You’ve come a long way since your first day in L.A., and you’ve worked hard. You owe a lot of it to your strength and your stubbornness, never willing to give up.

You expect Hunt to ask you how you’re so sure when there are so many people like you, when you’re merely a small fish in the cruel sea, but he does something else instead. He smiles softly at you.

“You’re brash, naive, and overly confident.” He chuckles, and lets his hands down from his defensive stance. He gets a far away look in his eyes and stares at the murals on the ceiling. “I used to be that way, before… … ahem.”

He shakes himself out of his daze and turns back to you. “Excuse me. I’m Thomas. And you are?”

You feel a jolt of panic. You feel like you’ve already gone too far, when realistically you’ve done nothing at all but have a conversation with Thomas Hunt. But even so, you feel uneasy telling him who you are at this moment.

“…Someone who doesn’t like to reveal all her secrets.” You say with a sly smile and tip your chin up. “It’s a masquerade ball, after all. Full of mystery and secret identities.”

You could have been imagining it, but you almost see a snip of a laugh from Hunt. “I don’t know about secret identities, but you don’t have to be so coy.” 

He moves closer to you and places a guiding hand on your back and the other gesturing at the crowd. “I don’t need a name to figure out who you are. Or anyone in this room, for that matter.”

The moment he has his hand on your skin, your nerves explode. You flinch at his touch, which he notices and drops his hand immediately. 

“B-but they’re all wearing masks.” You stammer, trying to cover up for your accidental slip. “How do you know who anyone is?”

He follows you and explains. “Years spent analyzing the nuances of physicality and behavior. For example, that woman over there in the pink dress is Paris Hilton.”

You look over and see the woman he’s pointing at. You squint to get a better look, and you realize he’s right. With the mask it’s difficult to tell, but she tilts her head to the side, revealing a bit of her face. It’s enough for you to be impressed.

“How--”

“Her distinctive laugh.” Hunt reveals, and observes another guest. “And the man next to her is Daniel Craig. He has a slight limp from his injury on the set of ‘Spectre’.”

The man walks away with Paris Hilton on his arm, and you watch his leg as he goes. Just as Hunt says, there he has a small limp, but it’s barely distinguishable. If he hadn’t pointed it out, you wouldn’t have noticed it.

You feel electric talking to Hunt like this, all buzzy inside from adrenaline. That, and the after-effects of his touch still lingers, dancing on that small area of your back. 

You shake it off, and put your drink down as well. “Those are easy. Let’s give you a harder challenge…”

“I’m up for it.” He responds immediately, a glimmer in his eye. He no longer looks bored, nor wanting to leave the ball in the slightest.

You take a deep breath and say, “Me.” You place a hand on your heart. “Do you know who I am?”

A part of you is still in disbelief that he doesn’t know who you are. After all this time, could he really not tell you apart from someone else? You have to see if he’s pulling some kind of prank on you. 

He pauses for a moment, thinking. Then slowly, he says, “I’ve been wondering that the moment you arrived.”

_ He has? _

“Something about you is familiar, almost loathsome-”

“Hey!” You protest, but he goes on. “Yet at the same time, forgive me…  _ attractive _ .”

That’s not what you were expecting at all. “‘Cause that was the insulting part…” You joke shakily, fighting off the colour in your cheeks. 

“You’re not going to tell me who you are, are you?” He says, and you hesitate. 

Technically, neither of you had crossed any lines. Plus, there’s an adrenaline rush coursing through you, one that Hunt is in complete control of. And right now, you have no intention of leaving his side. But your identity, well, that was a whole other can of worms. 

“Maybe at the end of the night.” You answer. There’s a twinge of disappointment in his face until you say, “Unless you’re planning on leaving early…?”

He gives you a charming smile, and looks directly in your eyes.

“No.” He says, a peculiar look on his face. “No, I’m not.” 

Your bodies ever-so-slightly melt towards each other. You have no thoughts, only your hand slowly reaching out, calling for him. And him with you as well. 

Just then, the music changes to something slow and soft, snapping you both back to reality. Hunt takes a sharp breath, and you drop your hand. You take a look at the couples entering the dance floor and focus on one couple, the one from earlier. The Hunt look-alike leads his lady with one hand on her hip and the other gently guiding her other hand. 

Before you can stop yourself, you declare, “We should dance.”

“Oh no. I don’t dance with just anyone.” Hunt replies, and you visibly roll your eyes at him.

“No one’s good enough to dance with you, is that it?” You shoot back.

“That’s precisely it.” He says this with a smirk, but there’s longing in his eyes. You know, because you probably look the same way right now.

“But is it possible that I’m an exception?” You tease, and step closer to him. 

His eyes widen for a moment before he follows your lead and shortens the gap between you two. 

“Possible?” He says, thoughtfully. “Yes. Likely? No.”

_ He’s doing this on purpose. He’s trying to make me bite. _

_ Sorry, Professor. I’m not backing down anytime soon.  _

You get closer to him, so close that you’re able to whisper into his ear. With a low and soft voice, you say, “The alternative is I walk away from you… and then you’ll never learn who I am.”

_ Don’t make me walk away from this.  _

He catches you by surprise and grips your wrist and places a hand on your back. You lean back and look at Hunt. “You drive a hard bargain.” He says, and you ignore the ringing in your ears.

“Does that mean I’ve won?” You tease arrogantly. You can see the challenge in Hunt’s eyes, as well as a deeper desire. 

He pulls away from you, straightens up and buttons his suit coat. He takes your hand in his, and presses a soft kiss on your knuckles. “Try to keep up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I didn't think I'd have to split the Masquerade into 3 parts but I'm still excited hehe. Make sure to leave comments so I know if you guys are liking the story!


	3. Behind The Mask

Hunt leads you out onto the crowded dance floor and takes you in his arms. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest. Your mouth has gone dry.

_Have I gone too far?_

_No… This is just a dance. That’s all._

_Just a dance..._

Your thoughts fizzle out as you place one hand on his sturdy shoulder and the other in his offered hand.

“Nervous?” Hunt questions you.

You realize that you’ve been looking everywhere but at him and snap your head up. “Huh?”

“If you’re nervous, this dance will be over before it even begins.” The way he says it comes off as more of a challenge than a warning. It makes you feel stronger, him deeming you as a worthy opponent.

“I’m _not_ nervous,” you insist. 

“Prove it.” He says simply.

Wordlessly, you wrap your hands around him and pull him closer. You tilt your head up and whisper, “Do I seem nervous now?”

Hunt doesn’t miss a beat and tightens his grip around your waist. Without breaking eye contact, he whispers back, “Not in the slightest.”

He easily leads you through the steps, guiding you around the dance floor. You feel nothing but pure intensity, moving around the room with Hunt, completely in sync. The two of you whirl through the other couples, each step perfectly in time with the music. You’re still a breath apart from each other, neither of you pulling away. 

You can’t even seem to hold a thought in your head out of fear that you’ll miss fully experiencing your time with Hunt, together. 

“Hmmm…” He suddenly murmurs. “You’re not completely horrible at this. In fact, it seems that your talents have attracted the attention of the entire ballroom.”

You look around and see that most of the room is now watching the two of you dance. 

_Have they been watching all this time?_

_I didn’t even notice._

“It’s all in the leading.” You shrug. Hunt tightens his grip on your waist.

“Normally I’d agree,” he says. “But in this case… you’re the mesmerizing one.”

You’re so taken aback by his compliment that you almost step out of line with the music. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“What?”

_Crap, crap, crap!_

“Er… that’s the nicest thing you’ve said _tonight!”_ You quickly recover. 

Hunt chuckles. “I suppose rare events still occur every so often.”

 _That was a close one._ You think. You had to stop being careless, especially now that it was a little too late to turn back on your decision to hide your identity.

The music begins to crescendo, and Hunt twirls you around the dance floor faster and faster. “Keep to my tempo, or you’ll fall behind.” He instructs, and you nod. 

With a sudden move, Hunt spins you out away from him.

“Oh!” You exclaim, not expecting it.

He reaches out, expecting you to take his hand as you twirl. The audience watches with bated breath, as well as your next move.

As you spin out, you focus and grasp Hunt’s hand, and he spins you back into his embrace. A few people from the crowd cheer and clap as you settle into his arms. 

“Not bad.” Hunt says, but he’s smiling. 

As the crowd continues to applaud your efforts, Hunt whispers in your ear.

“You learn quickly. I wish you were one of my students.”

“So… you’re a teacher?” You play along. 

“I—” He’s thrown off by his own honesty. “I suppose I can’t back out of that one. Yes, I teach at a local university.”

The music changes to a slow song, and Hunt holds you closely, almost effortlessly, as you dance.

There’s a curiousness inside you, one that you have to indulge. 

“Any interesting students?” You ask, feeling a pang of guilt as you ask.

“Most of my students are mediocre at best, but there’s one…” Hunt shakes his head. “Jane... From day one, she was the most insubordinate, disrespectful, infuriating--”

“Wait, wait, wait.” You interrupt, offended. “This Jane must have some redeeming qualities, right? It seems to me like there’s more to this student than what you’re saying.”

_There has to be more than you see in me._

“I suppose Jane _is_ passionate… I’ve never seen anyone care so much about school projects since, well, me.” Hunt admits, to which you feel a shot of pride. “And I admit, passion is important in this town. Without it, you can burn out like _that_ .” He snaps his fingers. “But I digress. Jane is just a student, and I’d much rather focus on _you_ at the moment.”

“No arguments there.” You say softly. 

You get an urge to rest your head on his shoulder. To smell his cologne, even through the lightness of it has been wafting around you the entire evening. You just wanted more of him, whatever you could get. 

_No Jane._

_Boundaries._

_Don’t cross that line. There’s no going back if you do._

_Don’t cross the line, no matter what you do._

Suddenly, the music changes to something lively and upbeat. It startles you and Hunt and removes the two of your out of your trance. 

You laugh it off, while Hunt settles for an amused expression.

“It looks like we’re going to a group dance.” Hunt changes his position so that you both face forward. The only thing connecting you is your right hand and his left intertwined. “Follow my lead.”

Hunt holds you close as he guides you through the steps. You’re unfamiliar with this dance, so you do your best to keep up. It’s not that hard, especially since Hunt moves carefully enough for you to follow. “One, two, three… one, two, three… now switch!”

You let out a small gasp. All the women move one place to the left, switching partners! A tall man begins to dance with you as Hunt partners up with a red-haired woman.

“Oh, hello.” You stammer, confused by what just happened. As the dance continues, you rotate partners many times, losing sight of Hunt.

_Dammit!_

Eventually the music fades. You look around, but can’t find him anywhere.

_I can’t make him out in here -- not when it’s so crowded._

“Hmmm… maybe I can see Hunt if I get a better view…” You see stairs leading to the second floor in the ballroom. There's a balcony with a couple people standing around on it. The perfect view to see where Hunt could be. 

You head upstairs so you can see the entire dance floor. You gaze out over the sea of men and women in masks… and not one of them is Hunt. 

“Everyone looks so similar! How am I supposed to find Hunt?” You sigh. 

_It was probably for the best, anyway._

_I think I got a little carried away back there._

You lean against the balcony rail and close your eyes. When you think hard enough, you can still remember the feeling you got when he was a breath away from you. How your whole body seemed to move with his across the dance floor with such ease.

You hear someone clear their throat and lightly tap you on the shoulder. The touch alone is one you recognize straight away.

“Hu-- Thomas?” It’s the first time you’ve ever called him by his first name. You only do so because that’s how he introduced himself, but it feels foreign on your tongue. 

“There you are,” he chuckles. “I was looking for you after the dance.”

 _He was looking for me._ Your heart flutters. 

_Stop it._ You command. _Stop this right now._

_…_

_Or don’t._

“I was just taking a breath from the chaos,” you backtrack, and awkwardly smile. “How _did_ you find me so fast, if I may ask?”

“Remember what I said earlier? _‘Analyze the nuances of your physicality and behavior.’_ I simply trusted my instincts.” He has a simply proud expression on his face, and you want to knock him down a peg.

“So your instincts brought you to me, huh?” You say. “I’m flattered.”

Hunt takes your hand.

“I suppose they could have... Now come with me. I have something I want to show you.”

You can’t even manage an _okay_ , because your nerves are shot just from him holding your hand. Instead, you nod and smile crookedly. 

He leads you through the ballroom and out onto a private balcony. There’s no one around, and you can only guess it’s because they’re all gathering to dance again. 

As Hunt steps into the cool night air, he removes his mask. You feel panic race up your spine. You look at the clock near you and realize that it’s almost midnight. 

_But why is he unmasking now?_

He turns to face you. “Disappointed?” 

“Not at all.” You respond. _Not ever._

Hunt doesn’t tell you to take your mask off, so you keep yours on for now. 

_Not yet._

_I can’t end everything. Not yet._

_Please let me have a little while longer…_

“So tell me, Thomas…” You start. “Is this masquerade living up to your expectations?”

He gives you a long, measured look. “It has exceeded them many times over.”

“That must be a first.” You retort.

“Indeed it is…” He agrees, but he seems distracted. He then takes both of your hands in his and you see him swallow nervously.

“You…” Hunt cups your cheek. “You are definitely the best part of the night. I wasn’t expecting to meet someone like you. I can sense something about you, a _connection_ …”

“You do?” You let your cheek burn from his touch. 

He nods. “I never thought I’d feel this strongly about someone I just met, but I can’t seem to stop myself.”

Hunt circles his arms around your waist, tilts your head up, and kisses you. You can barely register his lips touching yours before you’re kissing him back, more passionately than you thought you were able to.

All the worries, all the fears, the lines not to be crossed, they all disappear from your head instantly. 

_The truth is… I crossed that line a long time ago._

This isn’t about Hunt’s muscles, or some Professor fantasy to you anymore. This is about _Thomas_ , and the man behind the mask. The man who was kissing you so intently that you forget about anything coming between you and just the way he holds you. 

Hunt tightens his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. In the distance, fireworks explode! You can hear claps and cheers from the beach below. After a long moment, Hunt pulls back.

 **“** Please…” Hunt says. He has an eagerness you’ve never heard in him before. “I have to know who you are…”

You take a deep breath, and pull away from him slowly. It was wrong to lie. You know that if you did care one lick about him, you’d respect him enough to tell him the truth. 

You touch his cheek lightly one last time, and say, “There’s only one way to find out.”

Hunt looks deeply into your eyes. Slowly, carefully he reaches up and unties your mask. You feel the plastic fall away, gracefully floating to the ground. You tilt your face up so Professor Hunt can get a good look at you.

Shock registers on his face, then a whole mix of emotions that you can’t tell apart. Shock, anger, confusion… They’re all colliding right in front of you. 

“Jane!” You can almost see the huge wall fall between you. “How _dare_ you?!”

He’s practically spitting. “You lied to me! You deceived me! You… _seduced_ me!

You snap your head up. “ _I_ seduced you? Excuse me?”

_Who does he think I am?_

_Does he think I’ve been doing this just for…_

Regardless, you hate the way he’s looking at you. Like he barely recognizes you, like he didn’t kiss you with more passion than you’ve felt most your life. 

You retaliate. “Oh _please!_ Some part of you knew it was me!” You snap, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Even if you didn’t consciously know it, deep down you hoped it was me! You _wanted_ it to be me!”

As you say it, you realize that it’s true. How could he have gone the whole evening being close to her, _talking_ to her, without knowing that it was her? You’d been through alot with Hunt. You’ve worked with him on Permanent Wound, you’ve been on trips and multiple projects together. 

Even if he denied it, you believe that some part of him, _had_ to have known that it was you all along. 

Hunt looks taken aback by your accusation, and then waves you off dismissively. “Ha! Why would I want you to be someone I despise? Someone I don’t respect? You’re the _last_ person I’d want to see behind that mask.”

His words are like a slap in the face. You almost believe him until you remember all that he’s done for you, and not just as a student.

Hunt was the one, who stood up for you when you were on probation and when no one else would. He was the one to lift you from being completely ruined when Permanent Wound was at risk for being completely ruined. He’s been there for you on multiple occasions, and now he’s expecting you to believe that he didn’t have an ounce of respect for you. 

“What about the fact that up until two seconds ago, you were completely into me?” You demanded. “You fell for me! There was nothing clouding your judgement then, just your raw feelings. Admit it!”

“There’s nothing to admit.” He shouts back, but he has a pained expression. He shakes his head and it goes back to being stern. “This argument is pointless. I can’t be involved with a student.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?” You challenge. 

His lips part, and he hesitates before calmly saying, “I meant what I said.”

The cold expression on him pierces you, more than the after-effects of his touch, which have been frozen away. 

“Well…” You face away from him, holding back tears. “Then I guess this is goodbye.”

You start to storm away while holding your head high, but Hunt catches your arm. “Wait!”

Your turn back to face him. For one second, you see something soft in his eyes, something you’ve never seen before. 

“Just… just wait, Jane.” Hunt says. He leans forward, tilting your head up toward him. Then he stops. He takes a step back. He straightens up, and you watch as his expression begins to harden.

“Professor?” You don’t understand what he’s doing to you. You don’t think that even _he_ is understanding what he’s doing to you. 

**“** We can’t cross this line.” Hunt says definitively. “Forget this happened. _Nothing_ changes.”

You feel a rush of anger. “What are you saying?! That this whole night was a mistake?”

 **“** You’re still my student!” He snaps. “I’m still your professor.”

“I know that!” You snap back. “But was it a mistake?”

Hunt turns to leave.

_Oh no you don’t!_

Feeling a rush of adrenaline, you grab his hand and stop him from leaving. “Answer me!”

He stops, his shoulders stiffening.You can see his hand grow stiff in your grasp, and you let go. 

“Do you think it was a mistake?” You repeat. 

For a few moments, you hear nothing back but silence. You turn away from him, ready to walk away, when you hear him speak. 

“I didn’t say that...” 

_What?_ You whirl around to see him walk away. You’re speechless, and he goes without a backwards glance. 

You feel your heart being squeezed out of your body. You place a hand on your chest and tilt your head towards the sky. 

_Professor Hunt, I can let you go. You can keep your mask to yourself, all you want._

_The problem is… That with_ Thomas _, I’ve already gone too far._

You close your eyes and remember his lips on yours just minutes ago. 

_And I can’t let the man behind the mask go._

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Masquerade date is officially over! 
> 
> See you in the next chapter!


	4. Ice, Fire, and More Fire

For two weeks, everything is back to normal between you two. Or, as normal as it could be. Hunt may be a skilled liar, but you are an actress, and you have just as much skill as he does. 

The first couple days back though, were tough. You tried coming in early to see him before class, but he wasn’t in the classroom or his office. During class, you could never approach him during a lesson, and Hunt never gave free time in his classes anyway. After, you would always try to catch him before the next period, but he would always dash to his next class. 

You got the message. Hunt simply didn’t want to talk to you. 

The problem is that as selfish as it is, you desperately want to talk to him. He made his feelings about you abundantly clear, but you at least deserve closure. Especially after his parting words haunt your mind everytime you see him.

You always feel an itch at the back of your mind when you don’t settle things that trouble you, but for the sake of your own happiness you do your best to push it away, and it works. 

Now, Professor Hunt and your class are on a field trip to the set of a new romantic drama called ‘Love is Everywhere’. The producer is apparently an old friend of his. You’re surprised he has old friends at all, based on the way he’s talked about people in Hollywood in the past.

You’re all just outside the studio warehouse, about to go in. You and Addison are at the back, raving about how excited you are, especially since the film is featuring Lisa’s soundtrack in it. 

“I’m surprised Lisa even went for it,” says Addison. “I’m glad that she’s venturing outside her comfort zone.”

“You know Lisa,” you say. “She’s a huge risk-taker. I remember her complaining about it during her studio sessions though. Something about being ‘too sappy’ or ‘so sweet it makes her want to puke’?”

Addison giggles. “I’ve heard some of them. I personally thought they were great! Does this mean I’ll make her want to puke?”

“If that’s the case, I’ll make her puke too.” You personally thought Lisa’s songs were down-to-earth and perfect for the charts. “I guess we just might be a little more romance-oriented than Lisa.”

Addison chuckles, and you both face the front as Hunt holds up a hand.

He clears his throat, signaling to the entire class to quiet down their excited whispers. “Listen up, everyone. We’re fortunate the producer is giving us the opportunity.” He crosses his arms. “That means you will behave in a way that reflects well on the university, _no exceptions.”_

Hunt shoots you an icy glare. You step to the side, hiding behind someone taller than you. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a troublemaker.” You mutter under your breath. 

As you all head in, you and Addison do your best not to freak out and fangirl over the set designs, wardrobe, and complex equipment stationed everywhere. Even though you’ve both worked your fair share in professional projects, none of them have been of this caliber.

You realize that ahead of you, Hunt is confiscating phones. “No phones allowed on set! Put them in this bin as you enter.”

You lock eyes as you drop your phone into his bin. He’s the one who breaks it. 

Since you’re the last person, Hunt passes the bin to an assistant and heads back to the front of the group. The tour begins, and you listen to the guide talk about the chemistry between the two leads of the movie.

“Hanging around romantic sets like these every day, it would be hard _not_ to fall in love!” You whisper to Addison. 

She grins in agreement and whispers back, “I agree. An on-set romance would be _so_ amazing!” 

The tour goes smoothly, with no major bumps along the way. You’re too focused on enjoying your time with your classmates, and Hunt is too far from you for you to be distracted. The only thing wrong is that you keep thinking about him. How he is, where he is, any traces of smile you can whiff out. But alas, you thankfully have Addison to distract you as well. 

At long last, the tour comes to a close, and you see Professor Hunt off by himself. He’s staring at the main camera, tracing it with his fingers. You see a fond look flash through his face. It only lasts a millisecond, but you see it. 

With that, you can’t suppress the urge to talk to him anymore. With the rest of the group facing the other way as one of the production assistants talk, you nudge Addison.

“I’m going to go talk to Hunt.”

After the masquerade ball, you told Addison about everything that had happened. It felt inevitable to you, to tell your best friend about something so crucial and crazy. She was mad at first that you didn’t tell her (mostly because she didn’t get to choose your outfit), but then she nearly fell over when you told her about you and Hunt. She promised to keep it between the two of you, although you didn’t need her to promise to know that she never would. 

“Oh yeah?” Addison says, replying to you. “Are you going to finally confess your crush?”

You’re aware that she’s teasing, but it makes you blush anyway. “It’s not a crush!” You say, and hang your head. “And besides, he barely acknowledges me.”

Addison snorts. “Oh please. The constant criticizing? The stern glares?” She winks at you and pokes your side. “I’m a thousand percent sure he’s got a thing for you.”

So do you. Not because of the criticizing and stern glares, but because of the way he was when he was with you at the ball. It’s not that you hadn’t seen that side of him before, but it was amplified, so much so that he looked so carefree, in a way you’ve never seen before but makes your heart jump. 

_And god, the way he looked at me before he took off the mask…_

Let’s just say you’re sure there’s something there. 

“Well…” You say warily. “I want to know for sure. I just want closure if he doesn’t, ya know?”

She nods. “Sounds serious. Are you sure this is the best time?”

You look at the group in front of you. Most of them are captivated by the special footage the PA decided to share as a last minute surprise. 

“It’s the only time,” you say. “Getting him alone is basically impossible.”

“Well, good luck, Jane. Let me know how it goes…” Addison places a hand on your shoulder and beams. “I expect a full report later, with all the steamy details!”

“ _Very_ funny, Ms. Sinclair,” you say as you leave. 

You approach Hunt, who’s, for some reason, just staring at the set with a thoughtful gaze. You’re almost nervous to snap him out of it. 

“Excuse me, Professor?” You gently tap him on the shoulder.

He whirls around and scowls. “What do you want, Jane? Shouldn’t you be with the rest of your classmates?”

You ignore the latter question and lower your voice. “We need to talk about what happened… at the masquerade.”

Hunt flinches. He glares at you and pulls you farther into the warehouse, away from the rest of the class. 

_He’s mad, but at least we’re_ finally _talking about it. That’s all I want._

“Professor Hunt, I…” You start, but then promptly stop. 

In the dark of the warehouse, you realize Hunt still hasn’t let go of your arm as he stares into your eyes. “Jane…”

You notice how close you already are and lean forward, your lips nearly brushing his. Suddenly, something in his eyes seems to change, and he pushes you away. _Crap._

“Are you crazy?!” He turns away from you and covers his face with his hand in a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know what you think is going to happen, but--”

“But what?”

He doesn’t turn around to face you as he speaks. “I’ve already said everything that needs to be said, Jane. Our circumstances haven’t changed. Nothing’s changed.”

_Fine. But what about what you said?_

“But--”

Just then, you hear the giant doors of the studio swing shut! It causes the both of you to jump, and Hunt to whip around. 

“Hey!” You call out, using your hands as a megaphone. “Wait! We’re in here!”

As you and Hunt rush to the exit, you hear the lock turn. You grab the handle, but it won’t budge.

Hunt slams his hand on the door and yells, “You charletons! Let us out!”

If you weren’t so panicked, you would tease him about using the word ‘charletons’. No one hears you shouting, however. It’s just you and Hunt, _alone together in an abandoned warehouse._

“Great.” Hunt lets out a deep breath. “Now I’m stuck with you for who knows how long on the set of this idiotic romance film.”

“Isn’t the producer your friend?”

“I never said _he_ was idiotic!” He snaps, and then groans. 

You rest your head against the cold wall and sigh. “If you haven’t noticed, that was a joke. Jokes are often used to diffuse tense and difficult situations.” He glares at you, only because you’re quoting him from his lecture in the comedy genre. “And besides,” you continue. “There are worse ways to spend a night.”

Hunt shakes his head. “I assure you, there are not. I just can’t believe you got us locked in here.”

“ _Me?_ How is this my fault?”

“ _You_ wanted to talk. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be in this mess.” He’s made it clear that he’s talking about more than just you two getting trapped in the warehouse. 

“Hey, wait a minute!” You say defensively. “ _You’re_ the one who dragged me all the way over here!”

“I was compensating for your lack of discretion,” says Hunt, and you roll your eyes. It’s no use. 

“It doesn’t matter.” You say, crossing your arms. “Regardless, we’re stuck.”

 **“** Let’s just find a way out as quickly as possible.” Hunt says. “I don’t want to have to deal with you.”

Even though you know that it’s just his usual negativity, it hurts. It slips past your emotional barrier keeping all the negative emotions out and knocks you down a little. It’s enough to ruin your already soiled mood too. 

“No offense taken, in case you were wondering.” You hiss. “Assuming you actually have emotions in that robot heart of yours.” 

Hunt doesn’t respond, and starts walking away from you. “There should be an emergency exit near the back. Come on.”

You follow Hunt deeper into the warehouse. When you reach the back of the building, you can’t find any exits.

Hunt shakes his head in disarray. “Unbelievable. This is clearly a fire code violation. I’ll be drafting a strongly-worded email as soon as we get out of here.”

You can already imagine the tears of whoever becomes on the receiving end of Hunt’s disapproval. “Or, we could just make a night of it and enjoy ourselves until morning.” You suggest. “ _Someone_ will come back eventually.”

“Are you going to make ridiculous suggestions? Or are you actually going to help me find another way out?” Hunt spins away from you, his tie flying. He makes a beeline for the corridor near you, and you follow, rolling your eyes for the millionth time since you’ve been trapped. 

As Hunt tries possible windows and doors as exits, to no avail, your temper cools down. You tell yourself to breathe, and to keep yourself focused. You’re not going to let Hunt distract you or bring you down.

“Maybe this isn’t an ideal situation, but we can at least talk.” You say, still trailing behind him. “Who could blame a professor and student for _talking_ when they’re accidentally locked on set together?”

Hunt slows down enough for you to catch up. “It’s not about blame.” His tone is no longer aggressive. It’s more of a subtle plea, asking you to leave it be. “I don’t want to talk to you. Not about this.”

If you could, you’d leave it be. But being the type of person you are, you need to get to the bottom of this. 

“Why not?” You ask, and then tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t understand… you said nothing would change, but I know both of us want it to.” 

_Actually, I don’t._ You think. _I don’t know what you want at all because you’re so damn confusing._

Hunt’s jaw clenches, and he quickenes his pace.

_Oh wow._

_You do._

In this moment, you resolve that you _will_ talk to Hunt properly, no matter what it takes. Fighting with Hunt was like fighting with fire, and after the saying, you know you would have to do the same to get to him. 

“Really? The silent treatment?” You counter. “Real mature!”

You follow Hunt, jogging to keep up with his pace. He suddenly stops in his tracks, and you almost run into him.

“What’s up? Find a way out?”

He points down the hall on the right. “It looks like there’s an office over there with several computers inside.”

_Oh, you can talk now?_

You bite your tongue from saying the words aloud. Instead you say, “I think we’ve found that all the windows in here are locked. I think that even if we do find one in there, we’ll still be in the same position we are now.”

Now it’s Hunt who rolls his eyes. “Yes, however, if we get inside, we should be able to email someone and finally get out of here.”

Hunt practically sprints to the office and tries the handle of the door, but it won’t budge. “Figures.”

“So what’s your plan?” You ask. “Or are you still not talking to me?”

Hunt looks around, and away from you, and points to an air duct high above you to the right. “I can get in through there. There’s a vent inside the office where that air duct must lead.”

He grabs a nearby trellis from the set and places it as close to the air duct as he can. You steady the trellis as Hunt climbs up. At the top, he leans out to open the vent, but can’t quite reach without losing his balance. He glares down at you.

“Well, get up here.” He grumbles, offering you his hand. “Obviously, I’ll have to hold you so you can reach.”

“Right. _Obviously_.”

Hunt reaches down to help you as you carefully climb up the trellis. You grab his hand, and he lifts you the rest of the way up. The swift way he lifts you catches you by surprise. “Oh!”

The trellis leans precariously to one side, daring the two of you to make a mistake and lose your balance. Hunt wraps his arm around your waist to keep you from falling.

“Careful.” He warns, but his voice is soft. The trellis steadies itself. You gaze up at Hunt, his arm still around you. 

You haven’t been in his embrace since the masquerade ball. 

_Right before everything went to hell._

Hunt breaks your eye contact, and clears his throat. “Jane, I need you to reach that vent and take the cover off.”

You peer at the vent above you. You can definitely reach it, but-

“Fine,” you say. “You can help by holding my waist.”

Hunt does as told, and places his sturdy hands around your waist to lift you up, holding tightly. You lean out to open the vent cover. With him as your counterweight, you’re able to brush your fingers against the vent.

“Almost… there…” 

“Be careful.”

You swing out to grab the air duct with your other hand and pull yourself up. “Got it!”

You crawl along to the office vent and jump down into the office, landing squarely on the desk. “I’m in!”

You begin to feel a glimmer of hope that you and Hunt will get out of here. That is, _after_ the two of you have your talk. It’s too soon to tell, but right now things are looking up. 

You unlock the office from the inside and let Hunt in. He says nothing to you but gives you a quick nod of approval and then heads straight to the line of computers and devices spread out across the room. 

He tries to turn on a computer first. “What the-” he repeatedly presses the button in frustration. “This one doesn’t work!”

You watch as he tries computer after computer. You knew they were all props after you watched Hunt try the first computer, but you watch as he desperately tries to turn each one on. 

“I think you missed one.” You comment, and he glares at you. 

“These are all just props! This one is just a cardboard box painted to _look_ like a computer.” Hunt places a hand in his hair, gripping it. 

He slumps in defeat on a desk. “This must be some kind of nightmare.”

“Sorry, Tommy Boy…” You walk over to him and sit beside him, staying an ample distance apart. “It looks like we’re not done with our adventure yet.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment to tell me what you think! <3


	5. Sleepy Confessions and Stale Bagels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've probably noticed by now, but each chapter is diverting more and more away from the original bit by bit. I'm REALLY excited for you guys to see what's to come!

You and Hunt leave the office. You shiver as you step back into the cold warehouse. You were wearing a long sleeved shirt and jeans, not exactly perfect for the sub-zero temperature. 

“No jacket?” Hunt retorts. “Typical.”

You glare at him and cross your arms tightly. “Forgive me, I wasn’t planning on spending my evening in a giant refrigerator.”

“I suppose you’re expecting me to offer you my coat like some boy walking you home from Prom?”

“Honey, you are  _ nothing  _ like the boys I’ve gone to Prom with. I wouldn’t take your jacket if you paid me.” 

Hunt seems surprised at your snap back, clearly underestimating your ability to banter. “Well,” he mumbles. “We’re not getting out of here anytime soon.”

You raise your eyebrow. “You’re finally admitting you’ve been wrong this whole time?” 

“I wouldn’t go that far, but trying to escape is clearly futile.” He hesitates, and then shoves his hands in his pockets. “Your turn. What do you want to do?”

Obviously, your first instinct is to  _ talk _ , but you know that if you start off strong, you’re going to be shut down quickly. You have to build that trust up slowly, and start small. 

“Maybe we can look for something to eat?” You propose. 

Now Hunt looks  _ pleasantly  _ surprised. “You had a good idea for once. There’s bound to be leftovers  _ somewhere _ in this building.”

You and Hunt find a restaurant set with several dining tables covered in red tablecloths, flower centerpieces, and tall candles. You check the food on the tables.

“Fake food?” You huff. “I really wanted this chocolate-covered strawberry…”

Hunt shakes his head. “Useless.” He gestures around the room. “ _ Everything _ in this warehouse is useless.”

You’re about to agree when you see a small cart popping out from the side, hidden behind a large prop. You point it out to Hunt. “Wait, I see a catering cart.”

On the cart, you manage to find a few stale bagels hidden under a platter. 

_ Well, it’s not chocolate-covered strawberries, but.. _

You bring them back and take a seat on the restaurant set. “Looks like this is gonna be it.”

Hunt reluctantly takes the seat across from you. You both grab bagels and eat in silence. You see him looking at you every so often, but you keep your head down and pretend to be interested in scoffing down the bagel. 

After a while, Hunt puts his bagel down with a sigh. “All right.” He folds his hands together. “Fine. Let’s talk.”

“Really? Mr. I Don’t Want To Talk To Jane All Day wants to  _ talk?!”  _ You can’t hide your surprise. 

_ This is my chance!  _

_ Don’t waste it, Jane. _

He scowls. “We’re stuck here all night, and I know you’re not going to let up. Let’s just get this out of the way.” He leans forward in anticipation, but you can see a trace of fear (and a little regret) in his eyes. “What do you want to know?”

“I want to know about your feelings.” You get straight to the point. Isn’t that what you’ve been leading up to the whole day? For  _ weeks? _ You need your answer, and need it now. 

He doesn’t look at you when he says, “You already know enough.”

_ Like hell I do.  _

“Listen,” you start in a gentle tone. “I  _ know _ you feel something for me, but I don’t understand why you can’t just tell me that now.”

You made a precarious assumption that he wasn’t going to immediately deny that he feels anything for you, but to your delight, he doesn’t. To you, that’s progress. 

“Fine. You want to know how I actually feel?” He’s not raising his voice, you hear a slight crack in it. “I’ll tell you even though it won’t make the slightest difference.”

Hunt takes a deep breath and looks into your eyes. “I feel--”

Suddenly, the lights shut off, stunning you both and throwing you both into pitch darkness. The only sound is that of your breath and his.

Hunt is the one to break the silence. “The power must’ve turned off for the night.” He says calmly. “We should light these candles.”

“Wait,” you protest. “You were going to tell me how you feel about me!” 

You feel robbed of your moment of truth. Of  _ Hunt’s  _ moment of truth. 

“That was almost a moment of weakness.” Hunt says bluntly. “It won’t happen again.”

“You have  _ got _ to be kidding me.” You mutter, but mostly to yourself. 

Hunt replies anyway. “I’m not.”

You then hear a match being struck, and Hunt lights the candles on the table. You feel your mouth, curving up into a smirk. “‘Cause everyone just has matches on them. That’s normal.”

He scoffs. “They were on the table. What have I told you about being observant?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes  _ again _ , and say, “We’re not in class right now. You don’t have to teach me all the time.”

“But I do.” He pushes. “It’s my  _ job _ to always push you, to be firm if it means you reaching your full potential.”

“So you  _ do _ care about me.” You joke. “You could’ve fooled me.”

Hunt narrows his eyes and stares at the tablecloth. “As a student. This thing you feel for me, it’s just a crush. It’s fake love, the kind people eat up at the movies.” He gestures around you. “Look around this set. None of this is real, yet when this movie comes out, people will swoon for the romance as though real love can be like that. But it’s all fake.”

You tilt your head at him, looking intently. As a former-director, you’re not surprised he used an analogy like this to describe the ambiguity of your relationship. But to you, that also meant that he was still speaking as your Professor, teaching you how to make a better romantic script. 

_ He’s avoiding speaking to me as Thomas, because he knows he won’t be able to use some random set-analogy to convince me.  _

Gently but firmly, you say, “My feelings for you are  _ not _ fake. What I feel for you is more than just a Hollywood romance. It’s real. And  _ real  _ feelings are about spending time with someone and enjoying their company, even when you’re just eating stale bagels together.” You hold your own half-eaten one up. “Even when the other person is being ridiculously stubborn.”

Hunt raises his eyebrow. “For once, I may have underestimated you, Jane.”

You dare to give him a smirk. “Yeah, just this  _ once _ .”

You see his mouth twitch, but you suddenly start shivering, the air growing colder.

Hunt gets up and rushes to your side. “What’s wrong with you?” He says, his eyes growing with concern. “Why are you shaking?”

You do your best to stay still, but goosebumps are appearing all over your skin. “I’m fine.” You insist. “It’s just cold in here.”

Hunt takes off his jacket and offers it to you. You bite your lip, holding back a chuckle. “I thought offering me a jacket was beneath you.”

“Even I’m allowed to change my mind occasionally.” He says, and you wrap his jacket around your shoulders.

“Thank you.” you stand up to meet his eyes. “But what about you?”

**“** I’ll be fine for now,” Hunt grabs a candle from the table and motions for you to do the same. “But it’s going to get colder in here.”

“What do you suggest?” You ask, and take the other candle in your hand. 

Hunt lifts his head away from you. “Come on. We’ll see if wardrobe has something warmer.”

You pick up a candle, and the two of you venture into the darkness. As you walk, you can see your breath in the candlelight. 

You realize that this is the perfect opportunity to try again with Hunt. “Okay, so you’re not going to tell me about your feelings, I get that. But we can at least try to get to know each other a little better.”

It seems that you were on the mark, because Hunt gives in. “Go ahead then. Ask me something.”

You decide to use the same strategy as before and start off slow. It worked to get him to open up before, so maybe it’ll work again. 

_ What  _ do  _ I want to know about him? _

You realize that you have all sorts of questions, all of them not just having to do with your relationship. 

You start simple. “What was your childhood like?”

Hunt’s candle flickers, and you can see the concentration on his face. “Typical, I suppose. I have a huge family, and I used to make my siblings and cousins act out the screenplays I wrote.”

“So you were a brutal director from a young age?”

He makes a disapproving sound in the back of his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Although I did once make my oldest cousin cry… but she wasn’t reading the part with enough  _ ennui _ .”

You laugh, and it echoes from your mouth. “Even as a child, you were just  _ delightful _ , huh?”

Hunt doesn’t answer, and instead says, “May I ask  _ you _ a question? I feel it’s only fair, since you’ve been so insistent on getting to know  _ me _ .”

“Really?” You mentally prepare yourself for his question. “Go for it?”

He coughs. “Ahem… What’s your favourite dish?”

“Favourite food, huh?” That’s a much lighter question than you would expect to come from him. “I was expecting something like ‘What director do you most admire?’, and then scowl at me when you find it isn’t you.”

“I don’t do that anymore,” he grumbles. You don't know if he means directing or criticizing people to love his work. “And, as pretentious as you might think I am, I  _ do  _ recognize beauty in simplicity.”

“Well, to answer your question.” You think about it for a few moments. “Hm… I guess I can’t say.”

“Now do you understand my side?” Hunt teases, and you punch him lightly in the arm. 

“Shut up.” You have a huge grin on your face. “It’s not that I  _ can’t _ tell you, it’s that it really depends on my mood. Although I guess if I had to say right now, it would be pizza bagels.”

“It must have been torture for you with those plain stale ones earlier,” he says amusedly.

You nod seriously. “It was a crime against pizza-bagel fans everywhere.”

He chuckles. Again, it’s the first time you’ve seen him do so since the ball. It makes your stomach churn. 

“I suppose I should tell you mine,” says Hunt. You nod, and he answers, “I do find myself enjoying pad thai with rice after a particularly long day. When I was younger, cheap thai was all I could afford as a broke film student at Hollywood U, so having it today reminds me of simpler times.”

“You were a student at Hollywood U?” This catches you by surprise, although you don’t know why. Hollywood U is for the best of the best, and Hunt was that and more. 

“Of course.” He looks at you, amused. “Are you satisfied now?”

“Never.” You smile behind the dim candlelight. “But this will do for now.”

The two of you continue walking through the dark. The two of you stay silent, but it’s not all darkness and quiet. Every so often you’ll catch him looking at you from the corner of his eye, and other times he’ll catch you doing the same. You even see a small smile once, although you look away as soon as you see it. 

After a while, Hunt stops, staring at the set in front of him. “Looks like we won’t have to go to wardrobe for blankets.”

You raise your candle higher to shed more light on the set. “Woah…”

You and Hunt are in the middle of what looks like the set of a hotel suite. It has a king-sized, heart-shaped bed with rose petals scattered around the floor. 

“Well, this is… unexpected.” You feel your cheeks filling with colour. “I guess they go on their honeymoon in the movie, huh?”

“I’ll sleep on the floor.” Hunt says. 

You hand Hunt a blanket and pillow from the bed, your fingers brushing his palm as he takes them. It’s only for a second, but it fills your whole body with warmth. 

“Your hands are freezing, Jane.”

You take a small breath and quietly say, “Well, I’ll be warmer on the floor next to you.”

Hunt is quiet for a moment. “Fine.” He says, hesitantly. “But I’m only doing this so you don’t die of hypothermia. And once you’re warm enough, you can sleep on the bed. It shouldn’t go to waste.”

You nod with a mockingly Hunt-like stern expression on your face. “Got it.”

You sit down next to Hunt on the floor, and he wraps the blanket around you. You huddle close to him and feel the warmth of his body. It’s killing you already, staying away from him. And even this closeness isn’t enough for you. 

“First time sleeping on a set?” You say as an icebreaker. It’s definitely not a first for you, with all the demanding projects you’ve taken on. 

He shakes his head no. “You’d be surprised. When I first started out, I pulled a lot of all-nighters.” Hunt actually has a nostalgic look on his face. “Sometimes I’d get so tired that I’d just sleep on set.”

“Really? It’s hard to picture  _ the _ Thomas Hunt hunkered down with a blanket in the middle of the night…” You give Hunt a sideways glance. “Although I guess that’s what you’re doing now, so it’s actually pretty easy to picture.”

“There were some rough times back then, but it was worth it. Anything’s worth it when you’re doing what you love.” He keeps his voice low and gentle. It’s so soothing that you feel your eyelids feel heavy. You lean against the backboard of the bed, and you’re so tired that you can’t tell the hard wood from the softest pillow. 

You feel yourself drifting off to sleep. You do hear Hunt say your name once, but you don’t respond. You don’t hear him call you after that, and you give in to sleep, Hunt’s strong voice filling your dreams.

The next morning, you’re awaked by the sound of someone at the warehouse door. “What…” Your eyes still feel heavy from sleep. 

You look around and realize you’re cuddling on the floor with Hunt. His arm is slung over your waist, and as you try to get up, he tightens his grip.  _ Holy crap! _

Still asleep, he mumbles, “Don’t… go…”

You pause, gazing at his unguarded, sleeping face. You brush a lock of his hair from his forehead, and an idea strikes you. It’s dangerous, and wrong for you to take advantage of him in his sleep, but this is your last chance to know. 

You lean closer and whisper, “Do you have feelings for me?”

Hunt doesn’t answer. You hear the far door of the warehouse creak open and decide to risk asking just a little louder.

“Hunt…” You say frantically. “Do you have feelings for me?”

He turns over, dragging the blanket, and you, with him. You try one last time as you hear people entering the studio.

_ Ohmygod Ohmygod Ohmygod- _

One last time, you push him. “Do you have feelings for me, Thomas?”

Still asleep, Hunt finally answers. “ _ Yes _ …”

You smile fondly at him and cup his cheek with your hand. Then you pull away from him and get up to dust yourself off. The lights suddenly come back on, and Hunt’s eyes open.

“Wha— Jane?” He sees you standing above him. “Were you just asking me something?”

“No,” you offer him your hand as he stands up. “Just to tell you that it’s morning.”

You hear low chatter in the distance, and turn towards it. 

Hunt does the same. “Sounds like someone’s  _ finally _ here. Let’s go.”

You say nothing and trail behind him as he clears his throat, clearly ready to discipline some very unsuspecting crew members. 

_ It’s not over yet,  _ you think to yourself.  _ I can’t take something he said in his sleep as his answer. _

_ He still won’t be honest with me, and I won’t give up until he is.  _

  
  



	6. 215 for The Reluctant Professor!

“There’s something I need to admit to you,” Addison tells you one day while she’s at your dorm. 

You tilt your head and look at her curiously. She looks guilty, and her cheeks are pink. “Addi? Is something wrong?”

“No!” She says, and then fidgets with her blonde hair. “W-Well, kind of. I mean, there could be....”

You pull your chair up to your bed, where she’s sitting cross-legged, and take your hand in hers. “Go ahead. You can tell me.”

Addison takes a deep breath and then exhales slowly. “Itrpdyuadhntnthwrhse,” she mumbles. 

“Uh, I think you need to speak up,” you say amusedly. Addison sighs. “ _I’m_ the one who trapped you guys in the warehouse that day.”

“What?” You drop her hand in shock. “How-what?”

“I’m sorry!” She covers her face in shame. “I’m so embarrassed, and ashamed of myself. I just thought that you and Hunt could actually _talk_ for once, and you’ve just been so down because of him…” She trails off. “I guess I thought I was helping you, but instead I made everything worse. Please forgive me, Jane.”

“Woah, slow down!” You clasp her hand in yours again and pat it. “First of all, have I _really_ been that down lately? I thought nobody could tell.”

“I’m your best friend,” Addison chuckles. “I know you better than everyone else. That, and whenever you look at him you look like a sad puppy.”

“Wait, are you serious?” You ask, mortified. 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Hunt couldn’t see it anywhere near as much as I did.” Addison hangs her head. “When you told me how much you needed closure over what happened and that you were going to talk to Hunt, I followed you guys and closed the door on you. I didn’t think it would automatically lock, and I didn’t think you’d get stuck!”

She sighs. “I guess I’m just asking-- could you forgive me? Even though I overstepped into your business.”

“Yes,” you say instantly, and give her a tight hug. “I’m not mad at all. You were just trying to help me. And it _did_ technically work, as you know.” She lets out a small laugh, and accepts your hug. “Thanks for caring about me, Addi. I’m sorry I worried you.”

“So, you’re not giving on him yet?” She mumbles. You laugh and pull back. “No.” You shake your head. “I’m not giving up. Not just yet.”

Addison’s a little teary when she says, “Does this mean that you’ll still come with me to Aria’s charity event tonight?”

“For charity? I think I could put up with your ass,” you joke, and comically roll your eyes. Addison laughs, and walks over to the bags of clothes she hauled over. 

“Good,” she says. “Because I have two ensemble’s calling our names.” She has a starry look in her eyes, and you know that she’s alright. 

That night, you arrive at Aria’s Celebrity Date Auction inside the lavish Sheridan Hotel. You see other students, some faculty and obscure celebrities scattered around the lobby. 

Aria comes up to you and Addison, practically bouncing. You forgot how enthusiastic Aria usually is, and it fills you with energy of your own. 

“I am so so so so _sooooo_ glad you could come, Jane!” Aria takes the both of your hands and squeezes them tight. 

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” You say, and Addison says the same. 

“Are you excited?” Aria leads you two down the lobby. “Because you’re about to bid on the most eligible singles in L.A.! If you win, you’ll go on basically the most romantic date ever, all expenses paid! And of course, all the proceeds go to my Save the Great Barrier Reef foundation, so it’s for a good cause too!”

“Wow, Aria! This sounds too good to be true.” Addison says in disbelief. “I’m super impressed that you pulled this off by yourself!”

“Awww,” she squeals. “Thanks, you guys! I really hope everything goes well.”

“I’m sure it will,” you assure her, and she beams at you. 

“Do you think you’ll bid on anyone tonight?” She asks. 

You and Addison exchange a look. “I would never say no to going on a fun time out. Especially if it’s for charity.”

“Fair enough! What about you, Addison?”

“I’m definitely down,” says Addison. “I’d love to donate and go on a date at the same time!”

Aria shows the two of you your seats, which are right at the front. You and Addison marvel at how the hall is decorated while people start to pool in and Aria gets ready for the start of the event. 

Finally, Aria takes the stage, standing at a podium off to the side. After a brief introduction thanking the audience for attending and the dates for participating, she clears her throat. 

“Let’s cut to the chase!” She exclaims. “Bring out our first date!”

The auction goes smoothly, one date auctioned off after the other. After several intense bidding sessions on various celebrity dates, you’re finally down to the end of the auction. You haven’t bid on anyone yet, mostly because they were auctioned off faster than you could blink. 

There are alot of amazing dates that are auctioned off, including Ethan, who you didn’t know was attending the event at all. You and Addison nearly burst out laughing when you saw him enter the stage, because it was so exciting. He winked at the both of you, and Addison managed to outbid everyone (including you) and land a date with him.

Ethan ended up swooping down from the stage to give her a rose (all of the dates had to be holding them) and to kiss her hand. There was nothing romantic between Addison and Ethan. They just had their own fun dynamic, and you’re hoping that one of your other friends is going to show up so you can all go on a light-hearted double date.

Unfortunately by the end of the show, it seems like Ethan was your only mutual. Regardless, there’s still one date left. 

Aria takes out her last date card and speaks into the microphone. “Next up, you may know him as the director of the Audrey-winning sensation ‘Ruin’…”

_Ruin? Wait a minute!_

You and Addison quickly look at each other. 

“-Or as #33 in Starlet Magazine’s sexiest people…” Aria continues. “Currently a professor at Hollywood U., it is my pleasure to present our next date-”

You both then turn to look at Ethan, who grins and shrugs. 

“ _Thomas Hunt!”_

A spotlight finds Hunt as he walks out onto the middle of the stage. He has the same scowl on his face, but he’s wearing a tux, rather than his regular suit. With the light of the spotlight, he looks stunning. 

“Hot damn!” Exclaims Aria, to which Hunt shoots her a look. “Er, I mean… ahem. Let’s start the bidding at 5!”

You raise your hand, as if by instinct. 

“Jane with the first bid!” Aria calls out. Hunt scowls at you, but you just shrug innocently back. 

“I didn’t realize this would be open to my students!” Hunt complains to Aria in a low voice, but you can still hear him at the front. 

Aria doesn’t answer, because in the crowd, Bianca raises her hand to bid, much to Lance’s dismay.

“What are you doing, B?” He says, offended. “I’m right here!”

Bianca has the gall to brush him off. “Uh, it’s for charity.” She says, without much care. “Totally just for charity. I bid 100!”

“100 to Bianca!” Aria says, and looks at you. You feel a challenge coming on, and you raise your hand again. You look directly at Hunt as you do it.

You and Bianca bid back and forth in increments of five until Bianca shoots you a wicked grin and raises her hand. “ _150!”_

Everyone gasps, not expecting the sudden surge. 

“150! Do I hear a counter bid...?” Aria says to the audience, but she looks at you. “Alright then… Going once...”

You lock eyes with Hunt. You weren’t planning on spending more than 100, but this was also bigger than you. This is an opportunity to spend time with him, on an actual _date_ , without anyone having any suspicions. 

“Going twice…”

_I’m not going to get this chance again, am I?_

You raise your hand as high as you can. “I bid 215!”

A wave of shock ripples through the crowd. Hunt raises his eyebrows, looking shocked himself. Bianca seems speechless herself. “215?!” She mutters. “I mean… whatever. Jane can have him. I didn’t really want him anyway.”

“What? You didn’t?” You hear Lance asking in the back. 

You can imagine her rolling her eyes. “ _No!_ Figure it out, idiot! I was just trying to drive the price up!”

“So then… you _do_ love me after all?”

“Yeah… that’s it.” Bianca sighs. “Sure.”

 _Yikes, Lance_ , you think. But you quickly turn your attention back to Aria. 

She hits her gavel against the podium. “Sold to Jane for 215! Congratulations, you’ve got yourself a date with a _seriously_ hot-” She catches Hunt’s sour expression. “I-I mean, _cool_ guy!”

The event ends with you and Hunt. Before Addison and Ethan leave, Addison squeezes your shoulder. “Good luck!” She whispers. “Make sure to behave. And don’t catch a case of the grouchies.”

You giggle. “I’ll keep an eye out, thanks. Have fun you guys.”

As they walk away from you, Addison turns back and mouths, ‘tell me everything later’. You roll your eyes and nod, fully knowing that you would and she knows it.

Hunt storms over to Aria, as the crowd disperses to meet up with their dates. “I did not agree to this! Keep the bidding open.”

“I’m sorry. That’s not how this works.” Aria says with a smile. She’s also one of the few people who Hunt’s brashness has no effect on. 

Hunt huffs, not giving up. “If it’s about money, then I’ll pay double the winning bid _not_ to go on the date with Jane.”

_Seriously, Hunt? What the hell!_

“Well, donations are always welcome!” Aria says. “But you’re still obligated to go. You signed the contract, remember?”

“And if I refuse?” 

Now Aria is beginning to get annoyed. “What? You can’t refuse!” She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. “You _have_ to go on the date, Mr. Hunt! That’s final.”

 _Ooooooh,_ you think. Aria may be endlessly sweet, but she is also no pushover. 

Hunt sighs, turning toward you, resignation in his eyes. “Okay, then… where do we start this nightmare?”

Determined to keep things upbeat, you say, “Aww. That’s my dream guy.” You point to your right. “And we start by taking a romantic picture in the next room over.”

As soon as you say it, Hunt rushes you into the adjoining room, where a professional photography studio is set up.

“In a hurry, Professor?” You ask, amused. 

He keeps his stern face on. “The sooner this night’s over, the sooner you can stop entertaining foolish fantasies.”

“You do realize I have you for the entire night, right?”

“Contractually, until midnight.” Hunt reminds you. “But that doesn’t mean I have to endure this farce the entire time. Once we knock out this date’s required activities, we’ll find a place where I can quietly erase the memory of tonight one drink at a time.”

You head into the main set. “Careful now. Keep talking like that, and I might swoon, Tommy boy.”

“How many times have I told you not to call me that?” Hunt says, and you ignore him. 

The photographer arranges you into position for the first picture and places Hunt’s hand on your waist. Hunt removes it immediately. “This is supposed to be a _romantic_ picture, you know? You might _actually_ have to touch me, as scary as it might be for you.”

“I’ll do as I please.” Hunt rejects you. 

You grit your teeth. You are _not_ going to have the one whole night you have with Hunt be a constant battle. “Ugh... that’s it! Come here!”

You pull Hunt away from the photographer by his tie and drag him to the side of the room. “What’s the matter with you?!” You snap. “This is the perfect cover, you know. You can treat this like a real date and no one will ever know that you _actually_ have feelings for me.”

“I don’t--”

You don’t let him finish. “And don’t tell me you don’t have feelings for me, because I know you do. You proved that at the masquerade and again on the movie set.”

The denial is getting old for you. All you want out of him is honesty, and he keeps refusing to give it to you. 

“I might have been mildly confused during the masquerade,” Hunt admits. “But I made my feelings _clear_ on the set.”

“Clearer than you think, Professor.”

A twist of confusion crosses his face, before returning to normal. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not sure what you’re expecting, but nothing happened between us before, and nothing’s happening now.”

“I’m not asking for anything crazy.” You wave your hand and sigh. “I’m just asking you to take a picture you are contractually obligated to take! If there really is nothing between us, I don’t understand why it’s so hard for you.”

“You’re asking for more.” Hunt says. “You’re always asking for more.”

You’re slightly taken aback by his wording. If anything, _he_ is the one asking for more. He’s asking you to ignore your feelings, to ignore the touch of his lips, to forget the feeling of his forehead against yours. 

**“** Fine.” You back down. “I guess I’m also asking you to make it look like you aren’t repulsed by me. Think of it as your greatest acting challenge.”

Hunt makes a small, almost imperceptible growling sound. Then he grabs your hand, although carefully, like he’s holding a bomb about to go off. “Very well.” He says. “I’ll touch you an appropriate amount for this illusion.”

You and Hunt return to the photographer, and she takes a few pictures of Hunt holding you around your waist. You’re close enough to feel his breath on your neck, and it takes everything in you to not hold him as tight as you can. 

Afterwards, the photographer points out some costumes and asks you to choose from a number of different themes and you suggest a royal theme. Regal, elegant, and something that Hunt will take instead of the ‘Wild West’ theme. 

“Only because it’s for charity.” Hunt sighs, but he puts on the plastic crown and cape. 

“You look so dignified in those royal robes.” You say, putting on your own outfit. 

Hunt sniffs, and then says, “And you look… ahem, well, never mind.”

You snicker as you wrap his hand around your waist. “Did you just almost compliment me?”

“ _Never mind.”_

You take several pictures together, including one where you kiss Hunt on the cheek. Hunt lets it happen, although he looks absolutely frozen as your lips touch his skin. 

After the photoshoot ends, the photographer promises to get the final edited pictures to you as soon as possible. Hunt waits for you as you give your information to her, and checks his watch. 

“Is it midnight yet?” He asks, and you put a hand over his watch.

“Relax. It’s like 7:30. We still have 4 and ½ hours left.” You smooth your hair back and take off your crown. “Next up is dinner. Hold on a second, I just got a text from Aria.”

“Would it be asking too much for this dinner to be tastefully understated?” Hunt asks you. 

“Ooh.” You say, reading off your phone. You give him a conspirator smile. “You're totally going to hate this.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Date Auction will probably be split into 3 chapters, so get ready!


	7. Past Memories

You and Hunt sit down in a secluded corner of the French restaurant, Chateau de Rose. A fountain bubbles nearby as a trio of violinists strolls among the white-clothed tables.

You marvel at the restaurant, while Hunt hides himself with the drink menu. 

_Wow! Aria did_ not _skimp with the dates at all. This is amazing!_

“Welcome to the most romantic date spot in all of L.A.!” You say enthusiastically, and tip down Hunt’s menu to smile brightly at him. 

He puts down and closes his menu with a sigh, and rests his mouth against his knuckles. “I swore I’d never come here again.”

You peer at him closely. “Wait…” You tilt your head at him. “You’ve been here before?”

Upon looking at the torn expression on his face, you realize it’s about something personal. He swallows, deep in thought. 

_It’s a painful memory. I wonder what happened..._

Hunt shakes his head and fidgets with his utensils. “A long time ago. I don’t want to talk about it.” He keeps fidgeting with the utensils, making sure they’re in perfect order. 

You try to cheer him up. “Was the food that bad?” 

You say this lightly, but it rubs him in the wrong way. “ _I said_ I don’t want to talk about it.” He says, pinching the space between his eyes. “Is that so hard to understand?”

You’re definitely aware that he’s just deflecting whatever pain he has onto you, but it wouldn’t kill him to at least be a _little_ less rude about it. “Hey,” you say defensively. “I’m just trying to have an actual conversation with you.”

“Is that what you want out of this, Jane? A conversation?” Hunt says, giving you a knowing look. 

You’re not beating around the bush. “No.”

“What then? What is it you’re actually after? Please enlighten me.”

_Ok, Professor. You like honesty? Then I’ll give you some._

“I want you to be honest with me. _Really_ honest. Not just ‘I hate your guts, Jane’ honest. I mean ‘This is how I really feel about you’ honest.” You say. He opens his mouth, and you add, “And before you say it, they’re _not_ the same thing.”

“How did you know I was going to say that?” 

“Because I know you,” you say softly. “And I know that you feel more than you’re willing to admit.”

For a second you see a spark in his eyes, it’s the same one you’ve seen every time you’ve almost gotten him to admit to his true feelings. But just as all the other times, it comes and goes when his emotional barrier comes crashing down, pulling him farther away from you.

“You’re dreaming.” He says simply. “I’m not interested.”

“Maybe I am dreaming,” you confess, and that gets his attention. “But is it so hard to imagine us actually saying what we feel? Actually acting on those feelings? Being together like a regular couple.”

He stares at you. “You mean…?”

You take a breath and decide to push it. “Kissing is a good start.”

“That’s not happening.”

_You mean, not happening again._

You shoot him a teasing smile. “So quick to dismiss. Come on, Hunt... it’s just one little kiss in the secluded corner of a restaurant where no one will see.” You inch closer, challenging him with your eyes. “What are you afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid.” Hunt says immediately.

You playfully shrug. “Well then? What are you waiting for?”

He shifts his weight in his seat. At long last, he says, “Fine. You want a kiss? I’ll give you a kiss. But only to prove that there’s nothing between us and end your fantasy once and for all. It will be an empty, hollow, _meaningless_ kiss.”

_He’s definitely stalling._

**“** You’re stalling…” You say, and he scowls at you. 

**“** I’m _not_ stalling.” Hunt leans across the table. You lean across to meet him, his lips just a breath from yours. 

You close your eyes, waiting, anticipating this moment in your whole body, from your lips down to the very tips of your toes… but the moment doesn’t come. You open your eyes, and see Hunt staring wide-eyed and pale at something over your shoulder.

“What is it?” you ask, and turn to see what he’s looking at. You turn. On the wall just over your shoulder is a picture of Hunt, smiling at a woman sitting across from him. They seem happy together. Hunt looks so softly at the woman, it makes you wonder if he’s ever looked like that with you before. 

“I don’t believe it…” He murmurs.

“Who’s this girl in the picture with you?” You ask, smiling. “She’s beautiful.”

“Her name’s Yvonne.” He reveals, and combs a hand through his hair. “We used to come here… way back when.”

“And what’s going on with your mouth in this picture?” You tease, pointing at your own cheek.

“What? I’m just smiling.” 

You pretend to be completely floored. “Oh! I didn’t know you did that… Ever.”

 **“** Very funny.” He says, but he no longer looks pale and disturbed. 

**“** So…” You decide to push your luck. “Who was she? Yvonne, right?”

Hunt nods, and looks nowhere in particular. A fond smile creeps onto his face. “She was… a good friend. We were inseparable.”

_A good friend huh?_

“Seems serious,” you joke, and then sincerely ask, “You mean… you two were in love?”

Hunt blinks, startled, and his demeanor shifts. “Never mind.” He picks up his menu. “You know enough.”

“I’m just asking because I understand how daunting it can be to be in a place where you have somewhat of a haunted past.” You say, full of empathy. 

“And are your memories associated with a certain person?” Hunt says, not looking up from the menu. 

You smile sadly and nod. “My ex-boyfriend. I thought I was in love, but I was also young and scared of the future. I didn’t know what would happen to us, so I ended it before anything could.”

Hunt shows slight interest in your story, and looks up at you. “And do you regret it?”

You pause. Then slowly, you say, “I regret being scared, and thinking that it was better to avoid things rather than embracing them.”

“That does seem to fit your current character,” says Hunt. “Although now, it seems to only cause me trouble.”

You grin and reach over to touch his hand. “I’ve made it this far. I’m here because of who I am. And there's no where I'd rather be.”

He looks down at your hand on his knuckles. He stares at it for a few moments, a wistful look in his eye. Then he pulls away and clears his throat. 

“I’ll signal a waiter to order.” He says, and you nod. You didn’t want to admit it either, but you’re glad he didn’t push any further. 

_The truth is… I’m a bit like you, Hunt._

_There are still some things that are too much for me to talk about._

You go through your meal in silence. Or he does, while you talk. He’s in no mood to talk to you about anything personal, and your relationship is definitely explosive territory. You instead talk about your friends, the food, and crack a couple jokes about how you could find bigger appetizers at a McDonald’s. 

He seems out of sorts throughout the meal, but not because of you. He seems lost in his own memories, and it’s unfair of you to force him to relive something he’d rather not. 

By dessert, he seems back to his normal self, although his normal self is still hard for you to talk to. Still, he begrudgingly shares a gourmet chocolate pudding. 

“Now where do we have to go next?” He says as you leave the restaurant. “I believe Ms. Sheridan reserved some tickets for us?”

You give him a peculiar look. “Are you finally excited, for the first time since we’ve been here?”

“No,” he says, and pulls out his phone. “I simply want to wrap this up as soon as possible.”

_Aaaaanndd, we’re back, ladies and gentlemen._

For the last phase of the date, you and Hunt arrive at the aquarium, which has been kept open after hours just for the dates. You’re just in time for your time slot, and you practically prance inside. 

“This is _so_ cool!” You exclaim, and whirl around, taking everything in. 

Even Hunt can’t deny it. “It’s admittedly interesting.” 

You both head over to the electronic map, where icons are lit up all over the screen. You trace your finger along the path set out. The whole museum is meant to be IKEA style, where there’s a set path with attractions along the way. 

“Hmm…” You place your finger on your chin in thought. “I’m thinking we should check out the sea turtles, the jellyfish, and then the otters.”

Hunt crosses his arms and nods nonchalantly. “Anything is fine. Let’s get going.”

And so, you and Hunt explore the exhibits. You fail to contain your enthusiasm and love you have for the sea creatures, and Hunt can’t resist telling you random facts and reading from the information panels they provide. 

After, you see a sign for the ‘Underwater Encounter’ and decide to head over.

“Well,” you say to Hunt after a while. “What do you think so far?”

The blue water reflects on his face, like a cool filter. “It’s been… acceptable.” He admits, and you laugh.

“Wow.” You pretend to be impressed. “For you, that’s a rave review.”

A moment later, you’re both standing in a glass tunnel within an enormous tank. All around you, the water is brimming with coral, kelp, and brightly colored fish.

“It’s like we’re _in_ the ocean.” You’re in total wonder. “It’s so beautiful.”

 **“** It really is.” Hunt agrees, and you smile at him. Hunt takes your smile, and offers a small one in return. He then stares out into the water, lost in thought…

You let yourself get consumed by the sight before you. You press your finger against the glass, and in front of a fish. Instead of being scared, it simply inspects it and swims around it. 

You hear Hunt with a slight _ahem_ , and you turn to him. “You wanted to know if Yvonne and I were in love, Jane?” 

You remove your hand from the glass and lean against the railing instead. “Finally, he speaks. And yes, I do.”

“Well, we were _deeply_ in love.”

_Deeply in love…_

_Can I even believe that version of Hunt exists?_

“Oh.” You prop yourself up on your elbows. “Not that I’m mad or anything, quite the opposite actually, but why are you suddenly okay talking about this now?”

Hunt stays facing the glass as he talks to you. “Because being here reminded me how much she would have loved this place. The water, the animals, the quiet. It all reminded me of what she was like. And she would want me to tell you about her. About us.”

“I like her already.” You slide a little closer to him. “So, what did you love about her?”

Hunt must be in a complete serene zone, because he doesn’t move away, and he doesn’t hesitate. “Everything.” He clutches the railing. “She was adventurous and spirited. Unbreakable under pressure. You think I can dish it out? Well, she served it up _fierce_.” He chuckles. “We were both film students. She’d transferred over from Spain for the year. And it was a hell of a year.”

“So, if you don’t mind me asking…” You say. “What happened between you two?” 

Hunt struggles to say anything for a few seconds. You’re about to tell him that he doesn’t need to tell you when he says, “The short version? Her year was up.”

“What do you mean?”

“She had an old boyfriend back in Spain, and I knew they’d end up married if she went back… I…” A pained look appears. “I wanted her to run away with me. We were supposed to meet at a bus stop near campus the night before her plane left. But I never showed up. So she left and married him. They have a family together now…”

_Hunt didn’t meet her?_

Hunt, so deeply in love, and so committed… And he still didn’t go? You’re genuinely surprised, and more curious than ever. “Why didn’t you meet her?”

He swallows, his jaw clenched. He bows his head when he answers you. “My career was too important. That decision not to meet her… it ruined me for a while.” He let out a deep sigh. “Deep regret can destroy a man from the inside, Jane.”

“Yeah.” You turn around to face the glass as well. “I know. It’s okay, Thomas. Something tells me you’re stronger because of it.”

Hunt hangs on to the first part, and leans closer to you. “You claim you know the feeling. This is about your ex-boyfriend, am I correct?” 

You nod wordlessly. As much as you don’t want to talk about it, you know it’s only fair that you open up when Hunt did the same, even though it was difficult. “He… He told me that he loved me. At the time, I was so new to L.A. and figuring out who I was, but _he_ wasn’t. He’d been there for a while, and he already knew who he was and what he wanted.”

You take a breath. “I guess… I didn’t want to bring him down. That, and give him less than he deserved. I thought that because he was somebody and that I was a nobody, it would never work out. I feel like a fool for that now, but...” Your trail off.

”You know that after Addi and Ethan, he was the first person I met in Hollywood.” You bark out a laugh. “In a _bar_ of all places. But he was there for me, through and through. Yet in the end, _I_ was the one who let him down.”

“I don’t mean to use your exact wording,” Hunt prefaces. “But…” He puts a hand on your back. “As you’ve said, you should be stronger because of your experiences. And you are.”

You feel your face getting flushed, so you wipe your forehead and eyes. “Ugh, sorry,” you chuckle. “I guess I didn’t expect to get so emotional-”

You look up and you’re suddenly aware of just how close the two of you are. You also realize that he’s been hanging on to your every word, and is now looking into your eyes, profoundly. You can feel the warmth from Hunt’s body beside yours, and it feels as though some unseen force is pulling you in toward him. 

Hunt doesn’t move away as you lean into him. A millimeter of distance stands between you two, daring you to come closer. 

And so you do.


	8. On The Line

You kiss Hunt, your lips touching gently, and for one moment, you feel that familiar spark. You feel him  _ kissing you back…  _ But then, he pulls away.

“Jane…” His voice breaks. “We just can’t.”

You hear some noise, and a maintenance man walks by with his cart. Hunt stands up, straightening his tie. You do the same and take a step away from him. 

“I believe the date is over now.” He says, and you shake your head.

“Nice try. It’s not.” You flash your phone at him, showing that you still have a little over an hour left. “Like I told you earlier, I’ve got you until midnight.”

“Fine then.” Hunt starts walking ahead of you. “We’ll go drink somewhere and run the clock out. Just as I planned.”

_ Just like I planned?  _

“I see.” You say, your feelings hurt. “I guess the old Hunt is back then.”

He stops walking and turns around. “What do you mean?”

You pass by him, your arm brushing against his. “Never mind. Let’s just go.”

_ After what I just told him… After we just kissed… _

_ He’s still insisting on being this person. _

You and Hunt arrive at Pudley’s, a popular bar down the block from the aquarium. 

“Really? Pudley’s?” You give him a look. 

“It’s the least romantic place I could think of.” Is his reply. 

You sigh of frustration and head in with him. Hunt takes a seat at the bar, and you sit next to him. Some frat guys are nearby, shouting at a game on TV.

“Friends of yours?” You say to Hunt. 

His face hardens and he takes a sip of his drink. “Let’s just sit in silence, okay?”

Now you’re angry. You don’t deserve his harsh treatment, nor the attitude. You slam your drink back down on the table, startling him. 

“Did I say something offensive?” You snap. “Are you acting particularly grumpy for a reason? Because I don’t deserve to be treated like crap, Hunt. It’s rude. I get that you’ve been trying to convince me that you have no soul, but it’s because I know you do that it makes the way you’re treating me that much more hurtful.”

He’s taken aback by your outburst, but he doesn’t change. “You’re making this harder than it has to be. Let’s just end tonight as pain-free as possible.  _ In silence.” _

“ _ I’m  _ making this harder than it has to be?” You don’t often get angry with people, or at least, enough to rip them apart. You like to be the one people turn to, the bright-eyed and cool-headed one. 

But when Hunt accuses you of being the person ruining everything, something inside you snaps. “Wow, Hunt.” You say slowly. “I didn’t expect you to be such a quitter.”

“Excuse me?” He says, appalled. “What right do you have-”

“And I’m not just talking about us.” You wring your hands together. “I mean  _ you _ , Thomas. I saw the way you were on set. You looked like you wanted to be there, like you’d give anything to direct again.”

“My career decisions are none of your business,” he spouts. “I retired for personal reasons… And yes, kill me for having a fondness for my past career.”

“I’m not stupid. I know you retired because of the Silver Circle.” Hunt’s head snaps up, clearly not expecting that.

“The thing is, Hunt, is they’re gone now.” You emphasize  _ gone _ . “I was part of the group who took them down. Remember?”

“What’s your point?” He says roughly. 

“My  _ point is _ that you’re the only one holding yourself back from directing again.” You remember how Hunt’s face lit up while on the set tour. There were multiple instances where he looked like he wanted to add in his own thoughts, but couldn’t because it wasn’t his place. “But you’re afraid, so you won’t do it.”

“I’m not afraid.” Hunt says. “Even with the Circle gone, my time is over. When you’re in the industry, you need to know when to-”

“What?” You say. “Give up?”

He doesn’t answer you. 

“I know that I’m new to the industry, compared to you,” you say, turning your body towards him. “But even I know that you can’t just  _ give up _ ! Not in your career, not in your life.”

For once, Hunt is speechless. He just stares at you, dumbfounded. One of the frat guys overhears your conversation and turns his attention toward you.

“Hey, what’s going on? Is this guy bothering you?” He points to Hunt with a beer in his hand. On the front of his jersey, you can see his name.  _ Luke _ . “Make sure this guy treats you with respect, okay?!” He says to Hunt.

Hunt rolls his eyes at him. “I do respect Jane. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You raise an eyebrow at him.  _ That’s not what you said at the masquerade, Hunt.  _

“What?” Luke takes a threatening step towards Hunt. “What’d you say, poindexter?”

Hunt doesn’t back down. “I don’t have time to waste energy on simpletons. It’s more complicated than you think, and none of your business.”

You stay silent and turn away from the both of them. You resolve that you are  _ not  _ engaging in a bar fight. 

_ Not that Hunt would ever fight for me.  _

Luke sticks out his middle finger at Hunt and walks back to his frat brothers. “Whatever. Why don’t you go do someone’s taxes, Grandpa Nerd?”

Even though the insult itself isn’t funny, you almost spit out your drink. “I’ll have to remember that insult the next time you’re bothering me, Hunt.” You say, chuckling. 

“Just ignore him.” Hunt says, and you both fall back in silence. A few minutes later, the clock strikes twelve. Hunt gets up from his stool.

“You’re just going to leave?” You sound desperate, but that’s just what Hunt makes you out to be. 

He doesn’t hesitate and buttons up his coat. “Yes. I told you my plan.” He pauses midway. “Are you going to stop me?”

_ Yes! _

_ Say something Jane! _

_ Tell him to stay, do something! _

He starts to walk away when you don’t answer. You feel a rush of blood and stand up, nearly knocking your bar stool over.  _ “Thomas!” _

The urgency in your voice is enough to make him stop. “You know, you told me this story about regret, and it’s really sad and touching… but have you actually learned anything from it?” You say, and place a hand over your heart. “Because I’ve learned what it’s like to walk away, and so have you. If you walk out of that door, aren’t you going to regret not pursuing what’s in your heart? Not giving us a chance?”

He doesn’t turn around when he says, “If I lost my job for giving us a chance, I’ll regret it so much more.”

Softly, you say, “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes,” he says instantly, and starts to walk away again. “I’m  _ sure _ .”

He heads out of the bar. You’re expecting him to turn around, to do  _ something _ , but he just… leaves.

“I guess… I guess it’s over.” You climb back into your chair and the bartender offers you a drink on the house. “Thanks,” you say, and accept his offer. “But it’s gonna take alot more than a drink to fix what’s going on inside.”

You sit there and finish your drink, contemplating what life is going to be like without Thomas Hunt. 

_ Did I say everything that I wanted to say? No. _

_ But did I say everything that needed to be said in that moment? _

_ … _

_ Yes. Yes I did.  _

You did everything you could. It just wasn’t enough to make him stay. 

You’re about to ask the bartender for another shot (that you’ll pay for), when you smell something foul next to you.  _ Ugh. _

“Hey there! Don’t worry about that guy!” Luke slides on closer to you. “I’ve been watching you all night, and you’re too good for him.”

Even though he’s right, his proximity to you is dangerously close. 

“Did you hear me?” He repeats it louder. “ _ You’re _ too good for  _ him _ . It’s a compliment.”

You grit your teeth and resist the urge to get out the taser you have on at all times. “I heard you, and I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m not interested…”

He pushes on. “And you sure? Because that’s not the vibe I’m getting. I’m getting a different kind of--”

“Listen, whatever your name is--”

“Luke!”

“Listen, Luke, I’m  _ not _ interested. Got it?” You say sharply. 

“Well, what the hell?” It’s safe to say he gets the message. “Don’t tell me you’re into Grandpa Nerd? What’s he got that I don’t?”

_ A scent that doesn’t smell like rotting flesh, perhaps? _

He starts moving in closer toward you, his anger rising. As soon as he gets too close, you pull back your hand and punch him in the eye. Luke curses as he stumbles back.

His swollen eye already starts to form. His eyes fill with rage as he moves towards you again. “ _ You! You little-” _

You hear a shout from behind you. “You heard what Jane said!”

Before you know it, Hunt is in between you and Luke in an instant, his fists clenched. Luke laughs at his tux, and warns him. “You’re messing with the wrong guy, Grandpa. Walk away before you get your suit dirty!”

He punches Hunt in the jaw, but Hunt just glares at him. “Is that the best you’ve got?! Because I’m a goddamn professor!”

Hunt cocks back a fist and decks Luke, seconding him sprawling across the bar stools, out cold. Your jaw drops. 

_ Did all that really just happen? Am I imagining things? _

But you’re not. Hunt is in front of you, breathing hard and staring at Luke, making sure he’s not coming to get you again. 

“Hunt…?” You place a hand on his shoulder. “Why are you-” Hunt turns and pulls you out of the restaurant. Blood trickles out of a cut on his mouth.

“Are you okay?” He demands, tilting your chin up at him so he can inspect your face.

You take his hands off you and place your thumb right beside his cut. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“I don’t care about me!” He shouts. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. But you’re the one who’s bleeding.”

“I am?” He reaches up and touches his wounded area. Once he does, he winces in pain. 

“The university is nearby, right?” You place one hand on his arm and the other on his back. “Come on… let’s get you fixed up.”

Back on campus, you’re in Hunt’s office, tending to the bruise on his hand and the cut on his lip. You’re still in awe of what happened. 

“Ow. That stings.”

“Don’t be such a baby.”

“Maybe if you were a more qualified nurse.”

“Hey, I can always kiss it to make it better.”

Thomas glares at you. After a brief silence, you give him a pad to hold against his wound. He takes it and says, “I don’t think either of us imagined tonight ending up like this. That guy was a complete neanderthal.”

“For sure.” You agree, and you mean it. What was meant to be a clean-cut date turned into, well, not a disaster, but something completely different.

“And you’re positive you’re okay?” He asks one last time. You smirk. 

“Who do you think gave him that bruised eye before you got there? Don’t worry about me, I can take care of myself.” You hand him a bandage for him to keep the pad in place. 

“Of course you can,” chuckles Hunt. “I shouldn’t have underestimated you.”

“Yeah…” You lean against the arm of his chair. 

Hunt sees the look on your face. “What is it?”

“There’s something I have to ask you…” You say, and cross your arms nervously. 

He nods. “Go on. I’m listening…”

“Well, it’s not like that Luke guy hit on me as you were leaving.” It’d been at least ten full minutes since Hunt had left. 

“Right.” Hunt confirms. 

“You’d been gone for a while… and before you left, I asked if you’d regret not giving us a shot.” You feel your nerves building with anticipation. 

“I remember.”

“I’m just wondering…” You lock eyes with him. “Why’d you come back, Thomas?”

His mouth opens, but nothing comes out. “I…”

You press some ice against his lip. He winces, and then he puts his hand on yours, looking into your eyes. In the low light of the office, he has sincerity all over his face.

“We all have our weaknesses…” He says. “And… You’re mine, Jane.”

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close. He rests his forehead against yours, and you lean into his embrace. If you wanted to, you could kiss him. But you don’t. You stay like that for a long time, not wanting the moment to ever end.


	9. Welcome to Hunt Manor

After the night of the date auction, you and Hunt are at a sort of standstill. You’re not sure where you stand, and you don’t think he does either. Not when he admitted that you were his weakness. 

You feel more afraid, than anything, that he’ll break your heart. What’s more is that you’re afraid he’ll break it when you’re not ready, and you’ll disintegrate into nothing but dust and unrequited love.

_Unrequited love?_

You almost laugh at the thought. What were you doing talking about love, when you and Hunt aren’t even dating yet? You feel childish for thinking it.

Now, you’re sitting in Hunt’s lecture next to Addison once again. The atmosphere in the class hasn’t changed from all you and Hunt’s adventures, surprisingly. You still make witty comments in class, and he still tells you to keep quiet or reluctantly agrees with you when you make a strong point. 

You suppose you’re trying to show him that you _can_ be professional when appropriate, and that you weren’t just looking for a chance to distract and fool around with him. No, you are in it for much more than that. 

_If only he could see it too._

“And before I forget.” Hunt’s voice rings through the air. “I have one more announcement. As many of you know, it’s almost time for my annual end-of-term dinner party. Those who finished in the top ten percent of this class are invited.”

Addison nudges you and widens her eyes. You grin back, just as excited as she is. If you made the cut, this would be your first year going. You almost made it last year, but with all the drama and things you were caught up in, you missed it by a small fraction. Addison has gone, but being a first year she was seated with the outer ring of the class. Not a very fun experience, but that was then. 

Hunt went on. “The list is posted outside… you can check after class. Don’t make me regret hosting it again after last year’s disaster.”

“What happened last year?” You ask Addison, and she giggles. “Someone broke a priceless vase!” She cries. “Hunt got all worked up and started throwing people out… it was terrifying... and hilarious.”

“Now that’s something I’d like to see.” You retort, twirling your pencil in your hand. 

You hear a shout from in front of you. “ _Yes_!” Bianca claps her hands together. “It’s party time!” 

You don’t have to look at Hunt to know that he’s rolling his eyes. “Sit down, Bianca. It is not party time. As a reminder, big-name people in the business will also be there, so don’t embarrass me this time.”

Bianca calms down, but you can see her whispering excitedly to Jenni. 

“Dismissed.” Hunt calls out. 

“Bianca doesn’t even know if she got on the list, and she looks like she’s ready to set off fireworks!” You pack your stuff into your bag. Addison slings hers over her shoulder. “Yeah, but you know her. She gets people to do stuff for her, and she has some crazy connections. I wouldn’t be surprised if she makes it in.”

“Good point.” You laugh. You get a funny feeling that someone’s watching you. You look around, and catch Hunt pretending to read some papers, but his eyes are on you. The moment you catch him, however, he quickly flips through his papers and turns around. 

_Still playing that way, Hunt?_

You look away from him and follow Addison out of the classroom. You see a bunch of your classmates stopping to check the list to see if they got an invitation to the party. You step to the front of the line, quickly scanning the list for your name.

“Yes!” You finally made the cut. “I’m invited!”

“Me too!” Addison says, and meets you in a high five. “Oh, we can go together, Jane! _Finally!”_

You hear the groans of students who didn’t make the cut. “I didn’t make it again? This whole system is rigged.” You hear Lance say. 

“You can’t honestly expect to be invited after you missed half of Hunt’s classes.” Bianca tells him, and he whimpers. “I needed my beauty rest! It’s not my fault his class starts at 2pm.” 

You and Addison start walking back to the Fashionista dorm. “It seems like you’ve been presented with a golden opportunity to see Hunt in his natural habitat… Aren’t you excited?”

“Is that even a question? I obviously am!” You cheer. 

“And work your charms on Hunt?” Addison adds. 

“Definitely.”

“Well in that case…” Addison whirls out her notebook. “I think we have to pick the perfect outfits for tonight! All designed by me, of course.”

You put your hands up, resigning. “You have total control, Addi. You have my permission to do the both of us up however you want.”

A shine appears in Addison’s eyes, and she beams at you. “I thought you’d never say so.”

She ends up picking two elegant dresses for the two of you. Hers is floor-length and blue, while yours is up to your knee and red. She also curls your hair, and straightens hers. You insist on doing your own makeup, to which she begrudgingly agrees. You’re glad, because your face is the one thing you specifically want to be just yours for tonight. 

“You look absolutely perfect tonight, Jane.” Addison says when she’s finished, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “Professional, yet alluring. Adventurous, yet mature. Spontaneous, yet thoughtful.”

“Are you talking about my outfit, or my personality?”

She hands you your purse. “Both! That’s the best part of fashion, it lets you express yourself!”

“Okay Ms. Sinclair.” You hook your arm through hers. “Let’s go show everyone just how expressive we can be!”

Twenty minutes later, you and Addison arrive at Professor Hunt’s, a modest-sized one-story home nestled in a nice neighborhood just a few blocks and stop signs away from campus. Addison opens the front door, and you step inside. The entryway is immaculate, with a single mahogany table tucked against the wall under a framed poster of Hunt’s Audrey award-winning film, ‘Ruin’.

“Wow,” you say in a low voice to Addison. “This place is… very Hunt.”

She nods. “It sounds like everyone’s already out back. So let’s go.”

You head out to see that a pool takes up most of the backyard, with an elegant bar on the other side. Your classmates stand around in clusters, talking loudly. You immediately spot Hunt, a drink in his hand and inspecting the crowd attentively. 

_Even though he’s in his own home, he still hasn’t turned off ‘Professor Mode’._

Hunt sees you and Addison arrive and his host demeanor wavers a little bit, revealing a scowl underneath.

“Professor.” You greet him with a wave, while Addison offers a hello. 

He points his head up at the two of you. “Jane. Addison. Glad to see that you could make it.” 

_That’s quite… Civil of him._

You give him a wide grin. “There’s no way we’d miss this. I just wanted to say–”

“I have more guests to greet.” Hunt suddenly turns away from you. “Excuse me.”

“Uh, bye…” You watch him walk off to a group of people and squeeze himself in. 

You turn to Addison, a pained expression on your face. “Okay, what was that about? I understand how I could make him nervous, but…”

_But there’s something different about him._

Addison confirms your worries. “I don’t know…” She agrees, looking confused as well. “Something seems to have him on edge.”

“Well, I’m going to figure out what it is.” You gesture for Addison to follow you. “Chiseled jawline or not, no one treats me like that.”

“You’re going to confront him now?” 

You shrug. “There’s no time like the present. Are you coming?”

You weave through the crown with Addison close behind. You say hi to people you know along the way, but keep an eye out for Hunt. You finally see him by the bar talking to a familiar woman.

“Thomas, darling,” she says, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You know I never pass up an opportunity to bring up what a snob you used to be. Your students deserve to know the truth!”

Addison peeks over your shoulder and gasps lightly. “It’s Marianne! I had no idea she’d be here!”

“Your boss?” _It’s Marianne Delacroix._

“Yeah.” Addison says. “I guess it makes sense, though. She’s pretty good friends with Hunt.” Upon seeing the look on your face, she quickly assures you by saying, “But she has a steady boyfriend. I’m sure you have nothing to worry about, Jane.”

You watch as Marianne flips her red hair off her shoulder, then casually touches Hunt’s arm. You get a twitch of jealousy, and shake it off. “I’m not so sure about that.” You tell Addison. “But there’s one way to find out.”

You approach them, a determined glint in your eye. Instead of approaching Hunt, you walk up to Marianne. You pinch Addison’s arm before you do, so she gets the hint. 

“Oh! Ms. Delacroix!” Addison offers her hand. “I’m Addison Sinclair, I work in the junior Fashion department at-”

“Of course. I remember you,” she says, shaking Addison’s hand. Then she turns to you. “You look familiar as well… Remind me who you are, again?”

You ignore Hunt’s death stare and give Marianne a glamorous smile. “Jane.” You shake her hand as well. “Yes, Addison and I designed a piece for you once for a contest in Professor Hunt’s class. It was an honour to win and have you feature it in your show.”

“Oh, Thomas, is this one of your students?” Marianne says, giving you a polite smile in return. You raise an eyebrow at Hunt, challenging him. He holds your gaze for a moment, then downs his scotch.

“Dinner will be served soon.” He says, and stands up. “We’d better find our seats, Marianne.”

In the dining room, you and Addison find your place cards near the end of the table, far away from Hunt and Marianne.

“Looks like Hunt’s not done avoiding me yet.” You laugh it off and fidget with your fork. “There must be twenty people between us.”

“Could be worse… we could be at one of the tables outside.” Addison shudders. “Trust me, I would know.”

A moment later, the seat across from you is filled by the one and only Bianca. Just your luck. 

“Jane? Addison? Ugh, I can’t believe I have to sit next to you losers.” Bianca takes her seat anyways, and you and Addison just exchange a tired look. 

Waiters start serving the salad course. The dining room is abuzz with many conversations, but you can still make out Marianne’s tinkling voice above the din.

“Don’t be so uptight, Thomas.” She swats him playfully on the shoulder. “It seems being stuck in the classroom for so long has sucked the fun right out of you.”

Hunt actually _smiles_ as she does. “We both know that I wasn’t any fun before I started teaching, either.” He counters, to which Marianne nods. 

“That is true. I’d never met a director who earned his reputation more than you, dear.” She starts listing off traits. “Perfectionist–”

“I prefer ‘purist’.”

She goes on. “…heartless–”

“‘Focused’.” He corrects her. 

“… and power hungry.” She finishes. 

“‘Ambitious’.” 

You then see something you’ve almost never seen before. You see him grin at her, clearly enjoying her and how perfectly they seem to fit.

“He never looks this happy…” You say to Addison as you pierce a cucumber with your fork. “Do you think Hunt’s been avoiding me because of Marianne?”

“First off, stop with the salad stabbing,” she says, and takes the fork out of your hand. “That doesn’t seem like Hunt though.. he’s not the type to string you along, you know?” 

You hear Marianne’s voice again. “Oh, Thomas. I do miss the good, old days.” She chimed. “Back when we were both trying to make a name for ourselves and had nothing to lose.”

“Things didn’t seem to have the same consequences then, huh?” Hunt says, almost wistfully. 

Across the table, Bianca snorts. “Yeah, like hooking up…” 

“Huh?” You and Addison give her confused looks. 

She smirks, like she’s proud to know something you don’t. “Oh, you didn’t know?” She says coyly. “Marianne and Hunt used to be an item.”

“What?!” You say tastefully, while Addison just gapes. 

“Marianne and Professor Hunt used to date?” She murmurs, and looks at you through her peripheral vision. “I didn’t know that…”

Bianca taps the rim of her drinking glass. “Oh, yeah. I mean, it was a long time ago, but they were a huge deal, back in the day. They amicably broke it off when Marianne moved to New York City for her first big magazine job, and they’re still friends…” She frowns. “It’s just not fair.”

“What’s not fair? That you don’t get to date Hunt?” You airily tease Bianca. 

She scowls at you and shakes her head. “Marianne Delacroix is like, perfect for Professor Hunt.” She sighs, and tilts her head towards them. “She’s elegant, charming, sophisticated, not to mention beautiful… Who stands a chance of dating Hunt when she’s in the picture? No one, that’s who.”

“Wait wait wait,” Addison back tracks. “I thought Marianne had a boyfriend?” 

“She did, but they just broke up, like super recently.” 

“How do you know that?” You ask Bianca.

She props herself up on her elbows and leans slightly over the table. “My sister heard about it. Marianne is very newly single.” She widens her eyes for emphasis and gestures them towards Marianne and Hunt. “And judging by the way she’s looking at Hunt, she’s ready to be _comforted_.”

“Really? I don’t know, Bianca…” Addison trails off. 

She ignores Addison. “And since Hunt is basically her perfect match, it only makes sense that they’d end up together.”

“Yeah…” You add. “Perfect sense…”

You feel sick to your stomach, and not just from the salad. It’s because when you think about it, it _does_ make sense. Bianca could be rude, and downright despicable at times, but in this moment she was right. Hunt and Marianne do seem perfect for each other, and you can see it on Hunt’s face too. He’s actually enjoying himself with her, unlike the time he spent with you, in which he spent most of it seeming miserable.

Sure, there were moments the two of you had. Intimate ones that you still think of and feel when you’re around him. But he still has the power to break your heart, and with his interest in Marianne, you get a scary inkling that fear is starting to come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you in the last part of the dinner party date!
> 
> Make sure to leave comments below so I know how I'm doing! <3


	10. Broken Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to leave comments! I love seeing other Hunt Stans as well haha <3

At the head of the table, Marianne continues working her charms on Hunt, while you get more and more restless. 

“Have you seen Tyler Winters lately, Thomas?” asks Marianne. “A script of his is being highlighted this month at the Los Angeles Film Festival.”

Your head snaps up. “Why are they talking about Tyler?” You whisper to Addison.

She shrugs cluelessly in response. “He’s been rising more and more lately… But I didn’t think _Marianne_ knew anything about him. Hunt too, since Tyler’s not in any of his classes.”

You hear Hunt answer. “I just went this past weekend. Even if he’s not _my_ student, he’s still a representative of Hollywood U. I had to go see his screenplay.”

“And did you think it was as derivative as his last one?”

_Derivative? Meaning, bad?_

You haven’t spoken to Tyler in a while, but you are the one who inspire him to go to Hollywood U in the first place. After being in his brother’s shadows, Tyler finally seemed to find a purpose. 

You’ve definitely read some of his sample screenplays, and acted in a couple of his early projects. You thought that his style of writing for film and the media was unique. Sure, he’s still new on the ‘up and coming’ side of the industry and lacks a thing or two, but you have no idea what Marianne means. 

Addison verbally agrees with your thoughts. “I thought some of Tylers stuff was great, personally…”

“Same.” You agree.

Hunt startles you by saying, “Even more so. It’s some of the most unimaginative ‘art’ I’ve seen, and I teach this lot.”

Marianne sighs. “I always tell him that he needs to pull himself out of his Renaissance-type feel and find some new inspiration.” Hunt nods thoughtfully, and leans a bit closer towards her. 

Finally, you can’t stand it anymore. Tyler is your friend, as his art doesn’t deserve to be bashed like this. Even Hunt, who you saw hesitate before agreeing, it’s not right. 

You raise your voice to be heard across the entire table. “Excuse me, but I’d like to argue that you may be misunderstanding Tyler-er-I mean, Mr. Winters.” Your tongues knots up on the last word. 

“Oh.” Marianne doesn’t look particularly pleased that you’ve interrupted, but there’s a slight interest that she shows towards you. “Well?”

“Uh…” You say, distracted by the way Hunt is avoiding eye contact with you. 

You shake your head to snap yourself out of it and take a breath. “His screenplays are stunning and totally original.” You clutch your wrist under the table. “Sure, some of his influences are more obvious than others, but as a whole, the exhibit showcased a talented writer who isn’t afraid to reference an artistic movement that is often overlooked and undervalued.”

The whole table is silent for a moment… you start to blush under everyone’s gaze. You feel as if you just recited from an essay in Professor Singh’s class. It’s possible that her classes have prepared you for this moment. 

“Hm.” Marianne rests her chin on her knuckles. “Impressive. It sounds like you really know your stuff, Jane. It’s nice to see someone who does have an appreciation for the art.”

“Thanks.” You say, exchanging a victorious look with Addison, who silently cheers for you. 

“You know, Thomas, you always make it sound like your students are completely hopeless,” says Marianne, placing a hand on his back. “But clearly some of them have potential.”

Hunt gives her a forced smile in return. “All _my_ students have potential.” He stands up from his chair. “Dessert and after-dinner drinks will be served in the living room in a few minutes. I just have to fetch the moscato from the wine cellar.”

Everyone gets up, and Addison pulls you aside as guests leave the dining room. “Are you okay, Jane?” 

“I will be…” You eye him walking towards his cellar. “Once I talk to Hunt.”

Addison looks at the people around you. “You’re going to talk to him? Now?” 

You nod. “You heard him, he’s going to the wine cellar, _alone_.” You gesture to the people returning back to the yard. “It’s the only time to get some answers about why he’s avoiding me.”

“Be careful,” she dutifully warns. “And good luck!”

“Thanks, Addi.”

You sneak into the wine cellar below the kitchen. It’s brightly lit, and every wall is lined with bottle after bottle of expensive wine. You quietly follow Hunt down one of the aisles. He calls out without looking up from the bottle in his hands. “Jane.” 

“How did you know I was here?” You ask jokingly. 

He answers seriously anyway. “Who else would follow me down here? You’re the only one who wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to ruin my life for a few minutes.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Well, you know how I hate to disappoint.” You step closer to Hunt. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” He says cluelessly, looking at his bottle of wine instead of you. 

You shake your head. “Why have you been avoiding me all night?”

He puts the bottle in his hand back on the shelf. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m hosting a party, Jane.” He says sharply. “I have important things to do.”

“Thomas…” He freezes when you use his name. “We both know that’s not why.”

Hunt turns to face you straight on, a changed look on his face. He steps closer, lifting a hand to push a strand of hair away from your face. You’re acutely aware of how close he is. He leans down, his lips a breath away. You close your eyes, hoping that your last kiss wouldn’t be the one from the aquarium. 

But nothing happens. When you open your eyes, Hunt is pulling away. “Thomas?” You squeak, and mentally shield your heart. It’s good that you do so, because you can feel it about to burst. 

“We can’t do this.” He grabs a random bottle from his shelf and turns away from you. “You should leave.”

“But…” You’re trying to find the words to say, but you fall short. 

He sighs. “I don’t want to talk to you right now, Jane. I have guests to attend to.” He finally looks up at you, emotionless. “They’re waiting for me.”

Hunt tries to move past you, but you step in his path. “Just talk to me.” You plead, a last ditch effort. “If you have a problem, then tell me about it. I can’t read your mind.”

He clutches his fist, shaking. “You want to know what my problem is, Jane? You are.” He spews angrily. “You’re my only problem. Your very presence puts everything I’ve worked my whole life for in jeopardy. So I’d appreciate it if you weren’t around. At all. Leave me be.”

You’re shocked, and your eyes widen at him. Even though this is typical Hunt-style wording, it’s never cut so deep before. “I…” Suddenly, you have nothing left to say for him anymore. You take a step back, hand pressed to your aching chest. You can feel your throat closing up as tears pool in your eyes. You blink them back. “I’ll just get out of your way, then…” You mumble.

With that, you turn and run up the stairs, leaving Hunt alone in the cellar. 

You reach the stair landing and see party guests milling about. To avoid their gaze and to avoid anyone trying to talk to you, you sneak down the hall and enter a random room, shutting the door behind you.

The bedroom is pristine with simple decorations. There are wooden picture frames placed around the room, each filled with a photo of Hunt with members of the Hollywood elite. “I bet this is Hunt’s bedroom.” You say. 

You notice a moleskin notebook on the nightstand next to a picture of Hunt standing between Martin Scorsese and Tim Burton. _His journal._

Usually you would think twice, or just not invade at all, but his harsh words still swirl in your head. Without hesitating, you sit on his bed and crack open the cover, looking at the first page. Your heart pounds against your chest as you flip the journal open. You start reading out loud (but still in a whisper, just in case). 

“'Attended L.A. film festival. Waste of time. If an infinite number of hacks wrote on an infinite number of Macbooks for an infinite amount of time, would they ever produce a halfway decent screenplay?” You chuckle. “After today, I have my answer, and it is a resounding 'no’.’”

You reach a section that’s all about Hunt’s college flame. _Yvonne. Nice to meet you._

“'Was tricked into going on a pseudo-date tonight with Jane…” You lose yourself when you find your name. Your heart throbs a little, so you place a hand over it to calm down and keep reading. “More on that later. For now… tonight’s events conspired to dredge up memories of Yvonne, who dragged me to a beach in San Diego when I needed to study. Was annoyed by sand and seagulls. But turned out to be relaxing. A much-needed break. Yvonne has Jane’s stubborn streak.’”

“Stubborn?!” You huff. “How am I the stubborn one?”

You keep looking through the journal, flipping the pages delicately. You stop at the name Priya.

 _Well, hello Professor Singh._

“'Priya Singh may soon join the faculty at Hollywood.” You read. “I have mixed feelings about this new development. On the one hand, Priya is a tenacious, fiery administrator. She could breathe life into our institution. Plus, I wouldn’t mind someone else dealing with all of my incorrigible students. On the other hand, we’ve worked together before and together learned the harsh lesson of mixing career and romance. I’d only get involved with someone under such circumstances if they were truly special… once-in-a-lifetime.’” 

_Once in a lifetime, huh? Sounds rare._

As for Professor Singh and Hunt, you are already aware of their relationship. You hold back a laugh, remembering how you were hiding in Professor Hunt’s closet with Holly, scared to death of being found out. In the end you weren’t, but the reveal of Hunt and Singh’s relationship was still a shock for you. 

You flip the pages some more, stopping at a section filled with Marianne’s name. You mentally brace yourself, and start to read. “'Marianne Delacroix is basically as perfect as they come. Elegant. Mature. Able to match me jab for jab. Saw the latest Betolucci film with her. Her insights were definitely refreshing. Haven’t met someone like her, someone so undeniably mature, in a long time…’”

“Ugh.” You can’t bring yourself to read anymore. “Did Bianca write this or something?”

After reading the Marianne section, you flip a couple pages, hoping to skip anything more to do with her. You finally stop at one that seems to be dedicated to-.

“Me?” You smooth out the page. “He’s been writing about me?”

You cross one leg over the other and begin reading. “'Once again, Jane has proven to be both my most promising student and my most frustrating.” You roll your eyes. _Only Hunt would need an insult to follow a compliment._ “There’s something else too, but I dare not even write about it. Not yet. Too soon.’”

You flip ahead. “'I may have made the mistake of my career tonight. Unable to control myself, I kissed Jane at the charity masquerade ball. If word gets out about this, I’ll be fired. I’m even hesitant to write about it now…’”

_Unable to control yourself? Haha, someone’s got it bad._

You keep yourself in check. _Well, that_ was _before he knew it was me._

You keep reading, skipping ahead to a new entry. “'Of all the students to be stuck with in a studio for hours on end, it had to be Jane. It took every ounce of willpower I had, but I managed to keep my feelings hidden.’” 

“That’s what you think,” you chuckle. You remember him begging for you not to go in his sleep. Holding you close, as if knowing he’d have to let go soon. 

You skip ahead a little more. “'Had I known Jane was going to bid on me for the date auction, I never would have volunteered, charity or not.” You’re not thrown off by this. “After tonight, after punching out some college punk, I’m convinced I’m putty in Jane’s hands. No matter the walls I put up, Jane breaks them down with a look or a touch or what I can only describe as an undeniable presence.’”

Your heart starts to jump, dancing around because of the words in his journal. All this time, you’ve thought that your efforts had given you almost nothing from him. You are wrong. He’s been feeling it too, all this time. 

“Or at least, he did,” you murmur, and put his journal back on his table. “Until Marianne showed up…”

Suddenly the door opens, and Addison pokes her head in. “There you are!”

“Hey.” You dust yourself off and stand up. 

“Are you okay?” She questions. She doesn’t ask about what happened with Hunt. You don’t know if it’s because she can see it on your face that it didn’t go well. “Ready to get back to the party?”

“Actually, I’d like to be alone for just a little bit longer.” You smile awkwardly. “I just need a couple more minutes.”

“Sure…” Addison agrees, looking concerned. “But you’ll let me know if you want to talk?”

“Of course.”

Addison leaves, shutting the door behind her. You sit there for a long time, wondering if maybe you’ve been wrong about Hunt from the beginning. Sure, you were sort of wrong that he hasn’t been feeling _anything_ , but he still wasn’t giving you an inch. Meanwhile, with Marianne, he was giving her more tonight than any regular person. You feel tired of trying so hard, for struggling for a love that is pushing you away.

As the minutes stretch, you get up and take a deep breath as you mentally prepare to face the music. You stand up and check your reflection in the mirror. “Okay, party’s over for me.” You practice your cheery smile. “I think I’m ready to go home.”

You walk to the door and turn the handle… And find Hunt standing on the other side, hands on his hips.

“Jane.” He looks shocked that you’re in his room. You can’t really blame him. “What are you doing in my bedroom? You can’t be in here.”

You stand up straighter, letting Hunt’s angry words wash over you, and you look him straight in the eye.

“There are other people around.” He barrels on. “Don’t you ever think–”

“That’s it.” You grab Hunt’s jacket and tug, pulling him into the room with you. “Get in here, Hunt.” You close the door behind you.

“What do you think you’re doing, Jane?” He demands, but you see a trace of fear. 

You push forward. “I’m _trying_ to have a conversation with you.” Your face crumples. “Why have you been avoiding me all night? I don’t deserve to be treated like this. By anyone.”

“You…” His emotional barrier falters. “You’re right.”

You blink. “What?”

“You’re right, okay?” He says, sighing of frustration. “You do deserve better. But I had no choice but to avoid you.”

You stare at him, confused. _What? That doesn’t even make sense._

“I had to put some distance between us, since you always insist on closing the gap.” He recalls his memories. “You were like that at the masquerade, on that movie set, and _especially_ at the date auction.”

You didn’t realize how hard it must have been for him. You believed it was mostly shallow ego, but it was deeper than that. “I… I’m sorry for how I behaved before.” You say apologetically. 

Even though you do feel bad for moving so fast and strong when he wasn’t ready, he’s still at fault. “I know I’ve been pushy in the past,” you admit. “But it was the only way I could get you to open up to me. You’re so stubborn sometimes! I want us to be together, but I want you to want it, too.”

You feel everything building up inside you. All the emotions, the hardship, your fears, all coming out in word vomit. “Look, I think I already know the answer to this, but… do you want to be with me?” You force yourself to say the next. “Or would you rather be with Marianne?”

Hunt doesn’t look at you, and he doesn’t respond. All at once, you feel everything in you break. You don’t feel tears coming, and your face doesn’t burn up. You’ve simply shut it all out. You feel like glass that has been broken in place, with nowhere for the broken shards to go.

Your voice breaks. “You know that lately… the prospect of unrequited love has been in my head?” Hunt stares at you, but doesn’t say anything. 

You chuckle. “It’s ridiculous, right? _Unrequited love_ … We aren’t even dating or anything.” You slowly place a hand on your heart. As soon as you do, you feel a single tear slide down your cheek. “I still don’t think this is love so early on, but Thomas… I…”

You lock eyes with him. “I’ve never felt this much for someone in my entire life.”

Hunt swallows, and this time he doesn’t dare break eye contact with you. You drop your hand. “But I guess this has all just been a waste of my time. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one for you, Professor.”

You rush out of the room, leaving Hunt alone. Just like he’s wanted all night. 

You find Addison immediately by the dinner table, waiting for you. 

She takes one look at your red eyes and crumpled face and says, “C’mon. Let’s go home.”

You’re too tired to tell her to stay. All you want is to be held, to feel some comfort in the broken soul of yours. 

You both leave without notifying anyone, not that anyone _would_ notice. Addison drives you back to her dorm, so you can stay the night. 

As soon as you enter though, you immediately rush to the bathroom. You fall to your knees and throw up everything you had that day. Addison follows you and comforts you. She holds your hair and tells you that you did everything you could, and that you were better than him anyway. She just holds you as you wail loudly, crying for what would never be. 

“You’ll be fine tomorrow, Jane.” Addison whispers soothingly. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. And as your best friend, I know better than anyone that you _will_ get through this.”

What she says does make you feel stronger. You feel safer away from Hunt now. Even though your body and heart both call out for him, you turn those feelings away. 

_Thomas and I were just not meant to be_ , your head says. _That’s all Jane._

_That’s all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Probably not what you were expecting lol. Don't worry, their story doesn't end here. Not. At. All.


	11. Relapse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to leave comments below! I love to hear from you guys hehe <3

**_6 months later…_ **

You’re strolling along campus, heading to your favourite cafe to meet with Ethan. He’s been really secretive lately, and has only told you that he’s preparing a great opportunity for you, and one that could boost your career.

You check the time. 2pm. 

_Usually I’d be in Hunt’s class…_

You stop that thought. Instead you realize that if you don’t hurry along, you’re going to be late, which you hate more than anything. You pick up the pace, switching to a light jog. It’s actually much better this way, because you feel the wind against your face and it feels cooling. 

You let out a contented sigh. 

Ethan’s waiting for you, as promised, in your favourite booth. He waves enthusiastically when he sees you, and you slide into the seat across from him. 

“Morning!” You chirp. He raises an eyebrow at you. “More like good afternoon,” he says. 

You wave your hand dismissively. “It feels like morning though, doesn’t it? The sun is shining, the birds are chirping…”

He laughs at you. “True, today _is_ a nice day in L.A.” He hands you a menu. “Want to order something?”

You take the menu from him and nod. “I’ve been absolutely _craving_ a cream cheese bagel.” You say, then add, “And some coffee.”

“Did you pull another all-nighter?” Ethan says, and you raise your hand defensively. 

“Not my fault!” You protest, then sigh. “It was Professor Singh’s class. Somehow she expects us to create a brilliant, original, and _long_ screenplay every week? I just barely got it done this time.”

Ethan chuckles and gives you a pity smile. “Yeah, I heard her class is pretty tough. I don’t know how you handled her _and_ Hunt for months.” Your eyes flicker at the sound of his name, but Ethan goes on. “You’re lucky that you only have to deal with _one_ of them now.”

You nod, a frozen smile on your face. “Hmmm.” You scan the menu, and hold it up to your face. “You know, I think I might want some waffles instead.”

You dropped Hunt’s class months ago. You tried showing up the first day after the dinner party, but all you could do was stand outside. Your feet wouldn’t budge. You just couldn’t stand to see him again. Not when your heart still felt so damaged.

When you realized it wasn’t going to work for you, you found yourself walking to Dean Ackerman’s office instead to drop your class (All students had to have special permission from him to drop a class). As soon as you did it, you felt a flurry mix of guilt, regret, and freedom. You took that as a good sign and replaced the missing class slot with a vocal class. You were sad to not have any classes with Addison anymore, but you now have vocal classes with Lisa, which she always manages to make entertaining. 

You haven’t seen Hunt since the day of the dinner party, but you prefer it that way. You’ve also taken it upon yourself to restrict his name on any of your searches or news articles, and block any of his social media. He rarely used social media in the first place, but you didn’t want to take any chances.

After you get your waffles, you know that Ethan’s been itching to get down to business. “Okay, Mr. Agent,” you say, stuffing a piece of waffle into your mouth. “What’s going on? Can you finally tell me about this secret project you’ve been so excited for?”

Ethan grins, and folds his hand together. “Of course, let’s get right to it.” A faint blush creeps across his cheeks, the way it always does when he gets excited. You and Addison tease him endlessly about it. 

“I’ve been in contact with a few producers for a while now, you know, to get you more of a bigger role?” He places a hand on his chin. “You’ve been doing good lately at making a name for yourself, but it’s time we start taking some risks and aiming higher.”

“Sounds good to me,” you say. “What do you have in mind?”

Ethan pulls out a thick wad of paper and slides it to you. _A script?_

You read the title. _“The Last Note.”_ You tilt your head. “Interesting title. What’s it about?”

“I’ll let you read it on your own,” says Ethan. “But trust me, it’s _good._ A little cheesy at some parts, but it’s basically a movie that’s in _Glee_ style.”

“A musical?” You hardly sing. “But Ethan-”

“Hear me out,” he says, and holds up a hand. “You have a naturalistic voice, one that you’ve been improving ever since you’ve been taking the vocal lessons. I showed the producers a clip of you that you shared on Instagram, and they were hooked. It’s exactly what they wanted. Someone who’s more natural, not some broadway singer.”

“Wow.” You don’t mind singing for a role at all. You’re just surprised that they even considered you. “Wait, how did you get in touch with them in the first place? I’m assuming that you wouldn’t be so excited if they weren’t bigger than the people we’ve already worked with.”

“Ah, that’s the thing-” He taps on the script. “Look who the main screenwriter is.”

You push your waffles aside and pull the script towards you. Under the title, you recognize the name. 

“Tyler?!” You exclaim. “No way! He’s a part of this too?”

Ethan nods. “Not only that,” he says, a grin spread across his face. “He’s also the one who recommended you for the part! He told the network that he knew you personally, and that you were perfect for the role. From there they contacted me, and the rest is history.”

You’re shocked, and flattered that Tyler thought of you. “So I’ve got the part?”

“Well, you’re still gonna have to send in a short clip of you acting out a scene, so they know you’re the real deal, but between you and me…” He holds out his hand, which you meet in a high five. “You’ve got it in the bag.”

You get a buzzy feeling inside, and it’s exciting. You’re more than excited to throw yourself into a project, especially if it’s one that could really land you in the industry. 

“They’re holding off on letting us know about the director and co-stars,” Ethan lets you know. “But I wouldn’t be too worried about who they settle for. They’re experts, after all.”

“Right.” You’re not worried about it at all if Ethan isn’t. He would never jeopardize you or your career. 

“I also recommend taking some time off of school altogether,” Ehan tells you. “It’s going to be a much heavier schedule than you’re used to. The school won’t mind though, it’s exactly the type of publicity that they like to get.”

You nod, and take a sip of your coffee. “You did good, Blake. Real good.” 

Ethan laughs and thanks you. 

Later, you’re reading the script in your dorm. It’s perfectly quiet, and you’re focused intently on the story. 

It follows a young girl entering Hollywood, where she falls under the instruction of a hotshot singer down on his luck. He takes her under his wing to teach her how to get more out there, but also because she inspires him more than anyone has in a long time. Of course, they develop a slow-burning romance, but it’s far less cheesy, and more deep than you thought. He’s afraid of losing his career, and she’s worried that she’ll only bring him down. The only aspect of the movie that’s bringing in the Hollywood side is several of the songs being sung be modern pop. But even then, Tyler manages to write it so that it seems to fit. 

You’re impressed, leafing through the script and getting lost on your soon-to-be-character, Rachel. You can see why Tyler recommended you, as you and Rachel seem to have a lot in common. You’re both strong-willed, passionate, and a lot of her inner thoughts have definitely been things you’ve said out loud in the past. 

“It’s kind of scary,” you mutter to yourself. 

You need a break after finishing the script. You stretch your hands above your head and decide to go for a walk, maybe visit Addison. She’s probably finishing up in her Fashion History course, which isn’t far from your old class with Hunt. 

_Hey!_ You text Addison. _Heads up, on my way to visit you with big news!_

You get a response a couple minutes later. _Awesome! See you then!_ She says.

You hop off your bed and head to the university building. 

The warm sun feels great against your skin, and it fills up your energy. You round around a corner, and nearly collide with someone in front of you. 

You stumble, and nearly fall over. They catch you by the arms and hold you steady with a strong grip. 

“I’m so sorry, excuse me-” You start to say, but you don’t finish because you smell something familiar. The sweet-spicy cologne that’s made your head go dizzy in the past. 

It’s the very same that you’ve been avoiding for the past half-year. 

Your eyes widen, and you look up to see Hunt, just as shocked as you are. He looks down at his hold on your arms, and you scramble away from him as fast as humanly possible.

“Professor Hunt!” You exclaim, and give him an awkward smile. “Sorry about that! I should have been more careful.”

He clears his throat and adjusts his suit jacket. “No need to apologize. I was simply reckless and forgot to keep an eye out on my path…” He trails off, and you look away from his searching eyes.

Your heart is racing. When was the last time you felt like this? 

_Oh yeah. When he flat out rejected me at his dinner party._

_I wonder if he and Marianne are. By now, they’re probably_ living _together._

The thought makes you flinch. You realize Hunt’s still staring at you, and neither of you are moving. 

“Um… How are you?” You try to be enthusiastic, tilting your head and grinning. 

He blinks, and then looks to the side. “As usual, I’m doing my best to share my knowledge and teach my students, but they always seem to take what I say and make it into something that clashes.”

You chuckle. “That definitely sounds like your typical class. I’m only sorry that I can’t be there to help make it clash further.”

Hunt doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and then asks, “And how are you doing? If I may ask?”

That catches you off guard. “Oh! Well, uh-”

Your brain seems to melt, giving you no chance to come up with an appropriate answer. 

“I’m fine.” You finally settle. “Great, actually!”

This isn’t technically a lie. You _have_ been doing great lately. You’ve managed to stop thinking about him every second of every day, you deleted all your ‘Sad/Love’ playlist off of Spotify, and Addison no longer looks concerned or gives you that pitying expression when someone in your group brings up relationships. 

Deep down, though, you’re still scarred. Your feelings for Hunt haven’t disappeared completely yet, and you are worried that they never will. Which is a problem if you want to truly move on with your life. 

Hunt seems to buy your answer, however. “Good,” he murmurs. “I’m glad.”

A moment of silence passes. 

“Okay, well I better-” You start to say, but Hunt cuts you off. 

“I saw your submission for the Hollywood U Galleria.” He suddenly bursts out. The Galleria is an annual case competition where each student submits a project to have displayed at the front of the school to showcase some of its most promising students. Students get 48 hours to create and submit according to the theme, and you submitted a short film that you also acted in.

“It was very… apt.” Hunt says. “Though you’re lacking in basic light composition and camera direction, it’s a commendable effort in the time you were given.”

You can’t help the smirk that creeps onto your face. “Apt, huh?” You cross your arms. “I guess I should thank you for the high praise, coming from you! I’ll definitely pass that along to my team.”

The corner of his mouth twitches, and he says, “I suppose you could… As long as you pass on my points of criticism as well. I don’t want anyone thinking it’s that easy to get words of praise from me.”

You turn completely serious. “Of course not. Wouldn’t want anyone thinking Thomas Hunt can be finessed that easily.”

The two of you share a small smile. You feel a familiar warmth wash over you accompanied by a small stinging sensation. Hunt opens his mouth to say something more, but he’s interrupted by a buzz coming from your pocket. 

“Excuse me,” you say, and take out your phone. It’s from Addison. 

_Where are you? Are you still coming?_

“You were on your way somewhere, correct?” Hunt shakes his head. “I won’t keep you.” He hesitates, before saying, “It’s… nice to see you, Jane.” He corrects himself. “Er- to see that you’re doing well, as you should.”

_Don’t do it, Jane. You’re going to regret it!_

You gaze at Hunt’s closed off expression. 

_Oh, to hell with it._

“Yes, I should go.” You smile apologetically. “I’m meeting my boyfriend for lunch.”

You see as shock registers on Hunt’s face, and in a weird way, it pleases you, to still have this effect on him. Even if he hurt you so deeply, you could still pull little things like this off. You know it’s wrong to lie and take pleasure in it, but you see it as the only bit of revenge you can get after being miserable and heartbroken for months. 

“Boyfriend.” Hunt repeats the word slowly, more of a statement than a question. “...Congratulations.”

You almost laugh. 

“Hm? You don’t need to congratulate me, Professor.” You giggle instead, and raise your hand. “But anyway, I should get going. I’ll… see you around.”

You walk past him, cooly, keeping your head held high. You don’t look back to check if he’s watching you, like you normally would have in the past. 

Your heart is pounding the further you get from him. Once you’re sure he can’t see you, you inwardly scream and lean against a wall. 

“Why did I lie?” You ask yourself, feeling dumb for it now. “Did I really want to see his reaction that badly that I resorted to lying?” You cover your face with your hands. “Ugh, what is _wrong_ with me.”

Your face is flushed, and you feel like you’ve gone back seven steps in your ‘getting-over-Hunt’ journey. It's been months, and yet one look, one touch, one _word_ from Hunt, and you're shaking. 

You find Addison waiting for you outside her class, doodling in her notebook. The moment she sees you her bright smile falters, clearly sensing something’s off with you. 

“What’s wrong?” Addison hugs you tightly and pats your back. 

You let out a small gust of air and wrinkle your nose. “Nothing Addi. Just a small relapse, is all. Nothing to worry about.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allllllrriightttyy! So we've officially diverged from the story! I'm excited to show you wha happens next, and I really hope you're enjoying the story so far!


	12. Backup Plan

“Did you hear? Hunt’s not in class anymore.” Lisa tells you a week after your interaction with Hunt. 

“What?!” You nearly drop your microphone. “What do you mean? Like, he quit?”

_Holy crap, did seeing me drive him out?_

“As if.” Lisa snorts, and crosses her legs, even though she’s sitting on a stool. “Apparently he’s taking a… what’s that thing called again? Like when you leave to work for a while or something?” She taps her chin. “A saber-titcal?”

Relief washes over you. “You mean _sabbatical_?” You correct her. 

She lights up. “Yeah! That one.” Her pink hair bounces as she nods at you. “I only know because I was eavesdropping on Bianca and Jenni. They were going on about how the class’ll be so much easier with him gone.”

“Yeah, they’ll probably start skipping class now,” you say, your mind in other places. _I wonder where he’s going._

_Aren’t sabbaticals usually like, across the state?_

_Wait, why am I thinking about this? I almost never see him anyway. That one time was just a rare occasion._

“So anyway.” You direct Lisa’s attention back to you. “How am I doing so far? Do you think I’ll be good for tomorrow?”

You ended up nailing the acting portion of ‘ _The Last Note’,_ but the producers changed their minds about you sending them a clip of you singing. They want you to come in and do it instead, in person tomorrow in front of the execs and the director at the studio. That, and they also want you to do a chemistry read with your costar, who you have no idea who it is yet. 

You’ve been getting Lisa’s help at making your voice stronger. Some days, the two of you get too distracted and end up talking for most of the time, but Lisa’s quick and efficient, and you’ve already been hearing improvements. 

“Your breath control is _much_ better than before.” Lisa answers you. “Thanks to me, of course. I still think you need to work on hitting that high B though, but you’re very close.” 

“High B,” you repeat back, making a mental note in your head to practice on your own later. Lisa puts her hand on your shoulder. “But do I think you’re ready for your final audition tomorrow?” She says. “I say _hell_ _yes_!”

You laugh and she joins in. “Thanks for helping me, Lisa,” you say gratefully.

She waves dismissively. “Nah, don’t worry about it. It doesn’t feel like work or anything at all! I’m just helping my good ‘ol friend Jane out.” 

The two of you practice your audition song a couple more times (with 15-minute off-topic discussion intervals in between), and eventually Lisa sends you on your way to get some beauty sleep. 

The next day you arrive promptly at noon at the studio with Ethan. He’s been hyping you up on the way here, telling you that you’ve already got it in the bag, and that you’re prepared for it. You believe him. You’re confident that you’ll walk out of that audition, having charmed the director, your co-star, and all the other execs.

“You got this,” says Ethan one last time as you enter the building. “Just go out there and be the star I signed on her first day at Hollywood U.”

“I still can’t believe you did that,” you say, laughing. Ethan shrugs. “Call it an agent’s intuition. And besides, I don’t regret it one bit.”

You both enter a room where you recognize some producers. They’ve made some of your favourite romantic comedies, and you get an excited jolt in your chest. One of them, Matt Driver, comes up to you and extends a hand. 

“Nice to officially meet you, Ms. Doe.” He says, and you shake his hand. “Call me Jane,” you insist, and give him your brightest smile. 

“Jane!” You hear a familiar voice. You see Tyler comes towards you, a pencil behind his ear as always. 

“Tyler. It’s nice to see you again!” You offer him a hug, and he introduces you to the other producers, who are polite and welcoming. 

When you’re all settled, Matt, Tyler and the other two producers sit at a table, and you stand in front of them. They position a camera towards you and you stand on the mark on the floor. Ethan sits off to the side, but gives you an encouraging smile. 

“Now that the introductions are over, let’s get started.” Matt pulls out a clipboard, and Tyler nods. “Now, Jane, it’s up to you whether you sing, or do your chemistry read first. What do you prefer?”

“Sing,” you say automatically. You have your piece ready, and you figure it’s a good way to get out any remaining nerves. Or _belt_ them out, as Lisa’s taught you. 

“Sounds good,” says Matt. 

Before you can tell him your song selection, the side door bursts open. “I apologize for my lateness, but traffic was simply horrific-” 

Your mouth goes dry. It’s Hunt. 

He stops in his tracks when he sees you standing in front of everyone. You’re frozen on the spot, unable to move or breathe. 

_What is he doing here?_

“Ah! Thomas, come on in.” Matt gestures over to Hunt. “This is Jane, the one we’ve been thinking about giving Rachel to.” He winks at you. 

Hunt stops staring at you and clears his throat. “Oh, I see.” He walks over to Matt’s side and takes his seat. Matt turns to you. “Jane, this is Thomas Hunt, our director for ‘ _The Last Note’_.”

Your nerves shoot up, and you struggle to snap yourself out of it. “Professor Hunt. Right. Hello!” You say, clipped. 

“Professor? Oh, are you one of Thomas’s students?” Matt asks, and at the same time you and Hunt say, “No!”

You and Hunt look at each other, and you cough. _Rest yourself, Jane!_

“I used to be in Professor Hunt’s classes,” you say with a charming smile. “I suppose old habits find a way of coming back to you!”

You laugh it off, and the others join in. Hunt is the only one who looks both in dismay and confused. “I guess I also thought that he was in retirement,” you add. “But it seems that I’m wrong.”

“Ah, yes.” Matt nods. “We’re lucky to have him on this project.”

_Hunt directing a romance?_

_Hunt directing ME in a romance?_

_Oh god… What the hell is going on?_

“Let’s not waste any more time.” Hunt tells Matt, avoiding you. “I believe we have a chemistry read and only an hour of time to spare?”

“That’s right.” Matt agrees, and turns to you. “Jane wanted to start with the song though, so let’s hear that first.” Hunt nods in agreement, and turns to you as well. 

Now everyone’s watching you. You can feel Hunt’s intense stare, and you can feel him trying to throw you off. You don’t know if it’s because it’s simply you or because it’s something he already does to everyone. Regardless, you can’t afford to waste this opportunity.

You’re a professional. It doesn’t matter who’s in the room, you’re here to give it everything you’ve got. 

You take a deep breath and do the classic introduction. “Hi, I’m Jane Doe,” you say, and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “And today I’ll be singing _‘Let You Love Me’,_ by Rita Ora.”

Hunt raises an eyebrow at you, challenging you. You ignore him and start to sing.

_I should've stayed with you last night_

_Instead of going out to find trouble_

_That's just trouble, yeah_

Matt leans forward, clearly already impressed. Tyler shoots you a nod that says _Yes! Go on!_

And so you do.

_I think I run away sometimes_

_Whenever I get too vulnerable_

_That's not your fault, yeah_

You’re nailing it. You’re doing exactly what Lisa told you to, and are taking breaths in all the right places. You can feel yourself really getting into it too. 

_I wish that I could I let you love_

_Wish that I could let you love me_

“Stop.” A firm voice interrupts you. You close your mouth and see that it’s _Hunt_ that’s stopping you. 

“Is…” You look at Ethan and then back at Hunt. “Is something wrong?”

Hunt nods, and folds his hands together. “As a matter of fact, yes. I just want to ask you why you thought that this song would be an appropriate choice for this role?”

“Excuse me?” You thought it was a great song, one that would impress them if you nailed. 

“Tell me, did you even read the script?” Hunt says. You look at Matt, but he’s staying quiet under Hunt’s lead. 

“What kind of question is that?” You feel your anger rising. “Of course I did!”

“Clearly you didn’t,” he says, not roused by your annoyance. “Because if you did, you would see that this song, while good on it’s own, is something more appropriate for _John_ to sing, and not Rachel.”

John is the name of your male-counterpart, and Rachel’s love interest. 

“Tell me, Jane,” says Hunt. “Are you auditioning for John today?”

You grit your teeth. “No. I’m here because I’m auditioning for Rachel.”

Your face turns red, and embarrassment floods your cheeks. It’s because Hunt is right. You realize that this song _is_ more appropriate for John, instead of Rachel. The lyrics themselves talk about John’s character arc as a whole, and you were so intent on proving your singing ability, you didn’t see it. 

“Come back when you’re better prepared,” says Hunt, and scribbles some things down on his clipboard. “Or better yet, not at all.”

You can already imagine his notes: _Lazy, Sloppy, Unprepared…_

You’re humiliated and pissed, but you’re also not going down without a fight. 

“You’re right, Hunt,” you say, and he makes a disapproving sound at the back of his throat. “I’m glad you agree,” he says, not looking up. “Now if you don’t mind-”

“Actually, I’m not done yet.” You give him your best staredown. “When I was in your class, you taught me that a good auditioner is always prepared, _and-”_ You wink at Matt. “Always has a backup.”

Matt amusedly chuckles, and Hunt narrows his eyes at you. 

You take another breath, and start again. “Hi, I’m Jane Doe, and I’ll be singing _‘Tell Me It’s Over’_ by Avril Lavigne."

Truth be told, you hadn’t actually prepared a second song. But you’ve sung it in the shower so many times that you know the lyrics by heart. Right now, you’re actually taking a huge risk by singing this song on a complete whim, but it’s all you have left. 

You feel nervous. You haven’t practiced this at all. Still, you have to give it your best shot. That, and show Hunt that you _are_ serious about playing Rachel. 

Ethan’s already got the music on the speaker, and you’re thankful that you already have the karaoke version downloaded. 

_I ain't playin no games_

_'Cause I got nothing left to lose_

_I'm so tired of circular motions_

_They leave me dizzy and confused_

You start off a little choppy. It’s slower than ‘Let You Love Me’, and takes a second for you to match the tempo.

_My heart, oh, no, it's not your revolving door_

_I get stuck spinnin', and spinnin', and spinnin'_

_Oh I, 'till I collapse on the floor_

This is the song you were obsessed with listening to after your rejection from Hunt. You spent hours listening to it, replaying every flashback of the two of you in your head. It’s something that Rachel would sing too, since she is the recipient of John’s cold attitude when he realizes he does have feelings for her, but can’t act on them because of his image. 

You sing the chorus, now fully immersed in the song. 

_Tell me it's over_

_If it's really over_

_'Cause it don't feel like it's over_

_Whenever you're closing the door, no_

_So tell me it's over_

You close your eyes, remembering the sorrow, the pain, all of the heartache. How it coursed through your veins and soared through your heart. You imagine Rachel with the same pain, as you sing the next chorus, and you finally reach the bridge.

_I keep on leaving the light on_

_Hoping to find something else, oh_

_I've played the fool for the last time_

You remember a high note coming, a loud, passionate one. 

_I just can't do this myself_

You take a deep breath, and let it go. 

_Tell me it’s over!_

You hold the last word as long as you can… and you nail it. You hear a whoop from Tyler’s direction, but you’re too into the song to get distracted. 

You sing the last few notes delicately, the way they’re meant to be sung, and slowly come to a quiet. There’s silence as the outro music plays, and the whole room bursts in applause. 

You’re breathless and flushed, all the oxygen sucked out of you. You stand up straight, and beam at the people in front of you, ecstatic. Even Hunt looks stunned.

“I’ll take it that you approved?” You say to Hunt, and lift your chin up. 

“I…” He shakes his head and regains himself. “It was certainly less of a mess than your first attempt.”

Ethan jumps over to you and hands you a bottle of water. You drink it as Matt compliments your voice. 

“We still have work to do,” Hunt reminds him. “She’ll need more vocal coaching if she wants to record the songs properly.”

“Yes, of course,” Matt says, and waves him off. “But it’s safe to say that we’re glad Tyler recommended you, Jane.”

“Thank you,” you say happily. “I’ll be honoured to work alongside you and the rest of the team.”

You and Hunt lock eyes for a moment. You’re the one who breaks it and looks away. 

“Time for the chemistry read, right?” Tyler says to Matt. “I’ll bring in-”

Matt places a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s take five so Jane can recover, yeah?” 

You shoot him a grateful nod. “Thanks, Matt. I’ll be quick.”

“Take your time.”

You and Ethan stand outside the audition room. You lean against the wall and chug some more water. 

“You did great!” Ethan compliments you. “I know it worked out anyway, but I actually think your second song was more impressive than the first!”

“I made some mistakes with timing and breath control.” You run a hand through your hair. “But I don’t think anyone noticed.”

“I definitely didn’t.”

“I’m just glad Hunt didn’t rip me apart again.” You sigh. You feel like you’ve dodged a bullet. Except if you _did_ get the part, you would have to work with him, for _months_. Him directing your every move. 

You nudge Ethan. “Why didn’t you tell me Hunt was directing?”

He shrugs. “I was told nothing except it was someone who has had a vast experience directing big features before. I was just as surprised as you were when Hunt walked in. I have to admit, this sort of movie, even though it’s great, doesn’t seem like his area.”

“That’s what I thought too.” You say. “Although it could be that _because_ he’s coming back from retirement, he has to start somewhere, even if it’s not what he initially wants.”

Ethan nods, and takes your empty bottle from you. “That’s a very likely possibility. You should be happy though. Whatever Hunt’s involved in is bound to be stellar.”

It should be noted that Ethan doesn’t know about anything between you and Hunt. As far as he knows, you two were only ever bickering student and teacher. 

“I’ll go get you another water.” Ethan offers. “That’ll give you a moment to collect yourself before going back in.”

He rushes off, and leaves you practicing deep breaths against the wall. 

_You can do this, Jane._

_The difficult part is over. Now all that’s left is the chemistry read, and you’re pretty good at those._

You close your eyes for a moment, soaking in the silence. You then hear someone clear their throat. 

You open your eyes to see Hunt standing beside you. His arms are crossed behind his back and he’s looking forward, expressionless. 

“Oh! Hello…” You ignore the jumbling nerves that start to build. 

“Last week…” Hunt starts. “You said to me, ‘I’ll see you soon’.”

_Irony at its best._

“Did you know I was doing this Jane?” He asks bluntly, finally looking at you. “Is that why you’re here? To spite me, somehow?”

“What?” You’re taken aback by his accusation. “When I said that, I meant that I’ll see you across campus or something! I sure as hell didn’t know you were doing this.” 

“It’s just that this is the first project I've decided to take on since retiring, and it just so happens that you’re right in the thick of it.” He searches your eyes, but you give him nothing in return. 

You exhale. “Listen, I’m not your student anymore. Don’t act like I am, and stop thinking that everything I do is because of you.”

_Although it certainly seems like I’m being cursed for it._

“Just try to be professional,” Hunt says, and turns away from you. “This is still my career, and I take it seriously.”

“So do I,” you snap. “And right now, I can tell you that _you’re_ the one who’s being unprofessional, talking to me like this. I’ve moved on, Thomas. You gave me your answer a long time ago, and I’ve taken it to heart.”

You walk by him, brushing past his arm with yours. “If anyone needs to let go of the past,” you say, before walking back into the audition room. “It’s you.”

You feel a sense of pride, but also dread. It’s like reliving the dinner party all over again. 

A few minutes later, everyone reenters the room, including Hunt. He doesn’t look at you while he sits down, but you still watch his movements through your peripheral vision. He has at least the decency to look bothered.

 _Focus, Jane!_

“Alright,” you say cheerfully, and look around the room. “Who am I reading with today?”

You realize that Tyler’s not in the room. “And where’s Tyler?”

On cue, Tyler walks in with another man. 

_Oh my god._

“Jane!” He says, and winks at you playfully. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah…” You murmur, aghast. “It has been.”

You get a flashback of you and him, cliff diving. You and him, tangled in the sheets. You and him, meeting for the first time at the bar.

You breaking up with him, after he tells you he loves you. 

He strolls over to you and gives you a bone-crushing hug, and even lifts you up in the air. You laugh as he spins you around once, and then sets you down gently. 

“Ahem.” You don’t have to look to know that it's Hunt, but his voice has a slight edge to it. “Mr. Winters, I presume?”

He places an arm around your shoulder and shoots Hunt a dazzling smile. “Please,” he says. “Call me Chris.”

  
  



	13. (H)a(unt)ed Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad they put the HWU characters in Choices. Definitely a smart choice.  
> I personally think Hunt's character was really well developed there!

If you weren’t in the middle of it, you’d laugh at how soap-opera-like your life was getting. Not that it was ever normal in the first place, but still. Come _on_. 

You’re not on bad terms with Chris. Sure, it was rough for a while after you dumped him, but you saw each other during parties and other things anyway that you made up and decided to stay friends. Distant friends that didn’t hang out alone anymore, but still friendly. 

You certainly never expected to work with him again, much less for him to be your male counterpart. 

You punch him lighty in the arm. “Why didn’t you tell me you were on this project?”

He shrugs, giving you an innocent look. “I wanted it to be a surprise! But hey, isn’t this great?” He looks sincere. “It’ll be like old times again.”

You swallow, and smile nervously. “Yeah, right. Just like old times…”

“Can we get down to business, please?” Hunt interrupts the two of you from your reunion. “I’d rather not bleed the clock in the precious time we have.”

“Thomas is right,” Matt agrees. “Get in position and start when ready.”

You and Chris are to act out Rachel and John’s first meeting, as well as the scene where he decides to secretly take her under his wing. 

You stand opposite to Chris, and he gives you an encouraging smile before you start. It’s familiar and nostalgic, you can’t help but give him a warm smile in return. 

Chris turns and leaves his back to you, and you know that’s your cue to start. You stroll up to him, and tap him lightly on the shoulder. “Excuse me,” you say. “But you look like you’re in _dire_ need of some company. That, or some booze and karaoke.”

This feels familiar. 

_“You look like you could use some company.” You say, playing it cool. You take a sip of champagne and give Hunt a mysterious smile._

Chris brushes you off and shakes his head. “I don’t want either, and neither should you. This place is full of assholes, and yes, I’m including you.”

You pretend to act offended before saying, “Oh dear, I didn’t realize I was speaking to a boring stick-in the-mud.”

“I have no desire to talk to some random girl at a bar.” He sighs. “God knows I’ve done enough of _that_.”

You laugh, letting the sound echo throughout the room. “You’re just brutally honest, aren’t you?”

He snorts, and gives you a knowing look. “Trust me, it’s better than sucking up to someone just to boost their pride.”

_Hunt shrugs, showing no regret on his face. “I prefer to be honest. I think it’s much more admirable than being able to put up a front for the sake of someone’s ego.”_

“That’s fine with me,” you say, shrugging it off. “You can be honest all you want. The only thing I have a problem with is that crap face of yours. I’m trying to perform, and I can’t do that with your sour ass staring at me the whole time.”

You dare to sneak a peek at Hunt, but he’s not watching you at all. Instead his eyes are on Chris, watching him intently. 

Chris leans closer to you, his eyes teasing. “And who said I would be staring at you?”

He leans in so close that you can smell the cinnamon-fused shampoo he always used in his hair. The silence in the room is so strong that you can hear a pin drop, and you take this opportunity to lean in even _closer_ to say your next line. 

You lean in so close that your noses are practically touching. “If you don’t want to stare,” you whisper, and hand him a pretend microphone. “Then how about you sing with me?”

“Maybe I will.” Chris says softly, and peers down at your lips. That’s not in the script, but his improvising is actually a good idea. If you do get this part with Chris, it’ll be a great experience to learn from him.

“And, cut.” Matt calls, and you two break apart. You blink, needing a moment to break out of the scene. 

“That was great, guys.” Matt says, and you and Chris do a little high five. Hunt doesn’t look displeased, but you also can’t tell what he’s feeling just by his face.

“Let’s go over a few more scenes, but first…” He exchanges a look with Hunt, who gives a curt nod in return. “The reason we brought you two here today is because we wanted to show the rest of the producers, and our director just what kind of talent we brought in for them.” He then gives you both a huge grin. “And I think it’s safe to say that you two are who we want to play Rachel and John in _‘The Last Note’_.”

You and Chris exchange a celebratory glance, and then you share one with Ethan as well. 

“Officially, I'll have to go to the network and get things approved before we start anything,” he says. “But unofficially… Welcome to the team.”

Two hours later, you’re back at Hollywood U. You burst into Lisa’s dorm room. “The cavalry has arrived!”

Lisa, along with Addison are waiting expectantly for you. They’re practically on their toes when you enter, and you flash a smile at them. “I got it!”

They cheer, and envelop you into a hug. 

“I’m so proud of you!” Addison says, while Lisa reveals some tequila she brought to celebrate.

“We’re taking mad shots _tonight!”_ Lisa cheers, and pats you on the back. “See, knew you wouldn’t let me down!”

“Never,” you say, agreeing. You take the bottle from her before she cracks it open. “Before we get to the alcohol, there’s actually something I gotta tell you guys…”

Unlike your past with Hunt, your relationship with Chris is common knowledge in your friend group. That doesn’t make it any less surprising for them, and they immediately ask if you’re okay with the whole situation. 

“Guys, Chris and I are friends,” you insist. “And weren’t we always told that playing romantic opposites are more likely to not have any effect at all than create something weird between us?”

“Pssh.” Lisa waves her hand. “We all took film psychology Jane. Out in the real world where you and your ex-boyfriend are in a freaking _romance_ movie, there’s bound to be some heat.”

She then crosses her legs and pouts at you. “The one you should _really_ watch out for is Hunt.”

“What?!” You shoot Addison a panicked glance. Lisa’s not supposed to know about you and Hunt. 

“He’s going to be such a grump!” She complains, and you let out a small sigh of relief. “It’s going to be like you’re in class again, but _worse._ He’ll be watching you every minute of every _day_ , watching your mistakes and slip-ups, micromanaging you, directing your hot scenes-”

“How about we _don’t_ scare Jane before her first day?” Addison warns Lisa, and gestures to your horrified face. You knew this was all going to happen anyway, but hearing Lisa say it out loud has just turned your fears up to the max.

“Whoops.” Lisa hangs her head, and gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry dude. Listen, it’s just Hunt, that’s all. Think of something else, like how you get to act out a sex scene with your ex-boyfriend!”

“Lisa!” Addison chastises her. You know she’s only trying to cheer you up in her own way, but you still ground and grab a nearby pillow to throw at her. 

By the time she catches it, you’re putting away the tequila bottle on the shelf. 

“Hey! I thought we were _celebrating.”_

“We are,” you tell her. “But we’re going _out_ to drink. It’s on me. Except you Lisa, you get a max five drinks.”

Lisa sticks your tongue at you, while Addison’s already disappeared to get ready. 

An idea strikes you as Lisa follows her. “Hey guys,” you call out. “Is it okay if I invite a couple more people?”

“The more the merrier!” Addison answers back. 

You smile and pull out your phone. 

_Hey Chris! Meet us at Diego’s at 9?_

You get a text back almost immediately. 

_Celebrating, are we? Just kidding with you, I’ll definitely be there._

You tell him to tell his brother to come too, and text Ethan as well. You figure celebrating with Chris and all your friends would be a good way to get comfortable with one another again. You wouldn’t want things to be awkward on set, and tonight is the perfect night to let loose. 

You slip into a tight black dress that Addison provides for you, and once you’re all done head off to Diego’s. You’re all discussing the possibility of a karaoke competition when you arrive. 

“Oh, come on,” says Addison. “We all know whoever’s paired with Lisa is gonna win.”

“True.” Lisa smirks. “But in that case, I’ll sing with only _half_ my usual capacity to level the playing field.”

You bow in front of her. “How gracious, Ms. Mermaid.”

“Shut up!”

You arrive at Diego’s. You all immediately cut to the front of the line and give your names. The bouncer lets you in without any questions. Diego’s is owned by, _surprise surprise_ , Diego Barrantes. As soon as he was able to leave his bouncer life behind and move to the spotlight, he gave you and your friends a VIP pass for life into any of his clubs. 

“Ooh, look!’ Addison points to a corner of the club. “I can see Chris and Ethan!”

You spot them as well, as well as Tyler… and Matt.

“Hey, Jane.” Lisa pokes your side. “Who’s the hunk?”

You make an amused sound. “ _Pffffft._ Lisa, that’s Matt. My _producer_.”

Lisa claps her hands excitedly. “You better introduce me, as a payment for all those singing lessons!”

You tilt your head at her. “What happened to ‘helping my good ‘ol friend Jane out’?”

She shrugs slyly and doesn’t respond. 

“Hey!” Chris sees you all and waves you over. He gives you a side-hug and offers you a seat next to him. Addison sits in the middle of you and Ethan, and Lisa snags a spot beside Matt. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” Chris whispers to you. “I thought it could be fun if Matt was here too. We all deserve to have some fun before the real grind begins.”

You smile at him. “Not at all,” you whisper back, and point your head towards Lisa. “I think Lisa prefers it that way too.”

Chris chuckles. “Unfortunately, Matt’s gay. _And_ married.” 

“Really?” You give them both a sideways glance. “Should I tell her?”

“Nah.” Chris winks at you. “Let her find out on her own.”

You and Chris laugh. He inches closer to you, so that his arm is pressed against yours. You don’t move away. 

“Oh, by the way, so there aren’t any more surprises,” he says, and runs a hand through his hair. “I invited Thomas too, but I didn’t really get a response back.”

“Oh.” You’re surprised that Chris invited Hunt, but you're not surprised that Hunt also didn’t reply. Even though you’ve been at a bar with him, you can’t imagine him actually at a _club_ , letting his hair down. 

_Or getting wasted._ You think. You can already imagine the disapproval on his face if he were to see how you acted when you were drunk. 

You feel irritated just by thinking about it. “I’m going to the bar,” you tell Chris. “I think it’s time I actually start celebrating.”

“I second that,” Chris agrees, and shuffles out of the booth with you. “Mind if I tag along?”

You pause, then say, “Sure. C’mon, let’s go.”

Tyler watches the both of you leave, and catches your gaze. He winks at you and gestures to Chris with his eyes. You raise your eyebrow in confusion, but are whisked away by Chris before you can get anything from him. 

Chris orders two shot glasses, and you clink them together. “To _‘The Last Note’_!”

“To _‘The Last Note’_!” You echo, and down your drink. The alcohol burns down your throat, and you quickly suck on a lime. It doesn’t seem to sting as much for Chris, but he still makes a sour face. 

You can’t help but laugh at him for that, because it almost resembles an angry Hunt. You bite your lip and say, “This is nice.”

“What is?”

“Us. Having drinks as friends.” You say, and quickly realize how you sound. “I mean that I missed you! That’s all. I didn’t think we’d ever hang out like before because of-”

“You dumping me?” Chris finishes. He lays a warm hand on your arm. “Jane, that was a long time ago. We were both young, and even I realized that I was moving too fast.”

“I shouldn’t have been so insecure, though,” you say. You cringe at the memory. “It really set me back, and not just with you.”

“It looks like you don’t have that problem anymore though,” chuckles Chris, and you lean in to give him a conspirator smile. “Yeah,” you say. “But that comes with its _own_ problems, trust me.”

“Really?” Chris says, and leans in towards you. He has a twinkle in his eye. “Like what?”

You’re suddenly aware of how close the two of you are. You haven’t been this close to a man in this way since, well, _Hunt_. You feel something swirl inside of you, and you can’t tell what it is. 

You cough and turn away. “Well for one, overestimating how much booze I can handle,” you joke, and signal the bartender for another round. Chris smiles and offers you another lime. 

After hours of dancing, drunk karaoke and more drinking, it’s time to call it a night. Tyler’s the designated driver for Chris and Matt. He waves you all off before he drives them away. You never get to ask him what the whole thing was about when he hinted at you and Chris. 

You, Addison and Lisa, were not as smart about deciding who was going to be the designated driver ahead of time, and none of you were in any spot to drive home. Fortunately, the university’s seven minutes away by foot, so you all giggle and stumble together down campus. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me Matt was gay!” Lisa groans. “Man, I wasted valuable Lisa flirting time.”

“There’s always next time!” Addison says in a sing-songy voice. You snort. “To do what?” You retort. “To flirt with married gay man?”

“Hey!” Lisa smacks you on the back. “Drunk Jane is _mean_.” You giggle. 

You all head your separate ways. Your dorm is slightly further, so you walk alone. You feel your eyes close for a few moments, and the next thing you know, you find yourself in front of Thomas Hunt. 

You yelp and try stepping away from him, but you trip over yourself and nearly fall backwards. Hunt grabs you and pulls you into his embrace, but not before you catch his shocked expression.

_Wait, how did I get home again?_

_This has to be a Hunt dream. But why now of all times?_

“Jane?” Your knees buckle. The sound of his voice is so soothing to you. “What are you doing at this hour? Are you drunk? Why are you alone, it's not safe for you like that.” You hear the disapproval in his voice. “You know what a long day we have tomorrow.”

“Mmmm…” This is exactly what you’d expect Hunt to say. “I’ll leave any regret till morning. And besides, you’re here too.”

“I-I was…” You see his face turn slightly pink under the moonlight. “I was just finishing up some work-”

“Liar,” you say, and tip your head up. His eyes widen at you, and you press a gentle kiss on his chin. "You were coming to see me, weren't you."

“Jane, stop.” Hunt lets go of you. You’re able to stand on your own, but your vision is still a little blurry. “What do you think you’re doing? We’re in the middle of campus, anyone could see us!”

You huff. “Shut up already,” you say. This is _your_ dream, and in _your_ dream, you are the one in control. Nothing bad ever happens there, and certainly not heartbreak. If you want to kiss the man who broke your heart, you can. 

You fling yourself at him, and kiss him hard. You kiss him because in dreams there are no consequences and because since it’s _your_ dream he won’t crush you again. He stumbles backward at the force of your kiss, but he wraps his arms around you to regain his balance. 

“Jane… Your boyfriend…” Hunt whispers in ragged breaths. You nuzzle his cheek. “Not real. C’mon Mr. Hunt. You should know a good lie when you see one.”

It feels refreshing to let the truth out, even if it’s not real. 

You hear silence. Then, “Have I missed any other lies?”

You feel something holding you back from answering. Even in a dream, his question is too dangerous to answer. You say nothing instead, and kiss down his neck. 

He’s unable to move away from you, and you hum against his skin. “How come I never had dreams like these before? It would have made you so much more tolerable.”

“Dream?”

“Mhm.” You dig your nails into his suit, burying yourself as deep as you can into his chest. “ _Thomas_. _”_

Hunt tilts your face up at him, and regards you with so much affection and… sadness? It makes you want to cry, seeing him like this. Your head goes dizzy and you feel something wet on your cheek, and Hunt seems taken aback. 

“Why are you crying?!” He says, exasperated. You let go of him and wipe your eyes. “I dunno. I’ve never cried in my sleep before…”

Though none of this is real, you feel embarrassment rise in your cheeks. Your face is flushed and you can’t tell if it’s because of Hunt or the alcohol. You then feel yourself being swooped up, and you realize it’s Hunt, lifting and then carrying you in his arms. 

“What’re you doing?” You mumble against his chest. He murmurs something about home, but you’re too drowsy to hear it. 

_You’re home._ You think to yourself. You may have said it aloud too, but you’re not sure. 

Your dreams after that consist of his warmth, and you cling to it as long as possible. Eventually though, as all dreams do, this comes to an end and you are left with nothing but darkness.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No joke, Hunt fanfics (and writing this one) is the only thing getting me through uni sane.


	14. Winter Dinners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a 'Thomas Hunt x MC' dedicated playlist! Here's the link if you want to give it a listen! 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2iMb5CREvZgj1MJ7KfDjQv?si=iS0hjorjQmKZRgNlZe652g
> 
> If you have song suggestions, let me know in the comments!

You wake up, bleary-eyed in your dorm room. You take a deep breath and nearly choke on your saliva, causing you to cough uncontrollably. _Ugh. Drinking is so off the table for the next few months._

You rub your eyes. _Or years_. 

You stretch your arms and legs out, trying to get out the achiness in your bones. You’re still wearing the outfit you had on from last night, and you silently wish that you’d taken more care last night to change into some pajamas. You have sweaty blotches on your face, and additionally wish that you had enough willpower to take off your makeup. 

_Last night…_

Your dream starts coming back to you. 

“Did I really dream of Hunt?” You massage your temples, frowning. As you do, you remember the dream vividly passing through you. The feeling of his skin against yours, the way his lips called out for you urgently. 

_Not exactly the best indicator of me being 'moved-on'._

A jolt of panic runs through you when you question if it was real or not. You take several deep breaths to steady your heart. You dismiss that possibility, given that if you passed out in Hunt’s arms, there’s no way he would’ve known where your exact dorm was to drop you off. 

“At least it wasn’t a terrible dream,” you mutter. “There are worse ways to spend a night. Dreaming is _way_ better than doing in this case.”

You roll over to the side of your bed and check your phone for any new text messages. You have several random drunk ones from Lisa, a couple from Addison and finally one from Chris. 

_Hey! Can’t wait to get to work today._

_Yesterday was fun. I know working on this together will be too._

_When we have time again (if we ever do) let’s go out again!_

You agree with the first two lines of his text, but stop when you get to the third. “Go out?” You remember your conversation with him, as well as that moment you shared. You shake it off. “Nah,” you say dismissively. “Chris and I are friends.”

The first week of shooting officially begins, and you get into the grind of shooting day and day out. As a co-star of the movie, eight-five percent of the scenes can’t be shot without you, meaning that you’re always either on stage, or in the studio with your new vocal coach. It’s tiring work, but also rewarding too, it’s what you’ve been conditioned for since entering Hollywood U. 

The dynamic on set with Chris holds steady, and you slide into an easygoing friendship. You forgot how much you missed being around Chris. He shares a lot of your outspoken qualities, and you always manage to be in sync with jokes. 

Light humour is definitely needed on set whenever possible, to balance out Hunt’s strict directing. He’s not particularly unpleasant, but he’s definitely set in his own ways and won’t let anyone diverge more than a couple accepted improvs. The only notable thing is that other than him yelling his criticisms at you, he avoids you on set and around the studio. 

“Tough day, huh?” Chris says to you after work one day.

You nod tiredly, “I still have to re-record a song before tomorrow.” You sigh. “Man, I would _kill_ for a double cheeseburger.”

“Funny, I thought I was the only one who craved junk after filming.” Chris laughs, and offers you a cup. “Want some tea? I don’t know why, but it keeps me awake when I’m tired.”

“No thanks,” you say, wrinkling your nose. “I prefer coffee. Tea always tastes dry to me.”

Behind Chris, Hunt enters the room. He sees you two together and quickly takes out the script, which he usually carries on set like his own version of the Bible. Everywhere he goes, you either see him going over it obsessively or tucked protectively in his arms.

“Hm.” You say absently. 

“What’s up?”

You blink, not realizing that Chris heard you. “Oh! Nothing… I think I’m just tired. I should go record before I fall completely asleep.”

You actually have some time before you do, but it’s hard to focus on a conversation with Hunt standing stiffly behind Chris.

You start to go, but Chris stops you and grabs you by your elbow. “Chris?”

He lets go and smiles awkwardly. “I was just wondering, you know, after your session…” He looks straight in your eyes. “Want to go get something to eat? If you still want that burger, I mean.”

_Is he asking me out?_

“I _am_ pretty hungry,” you admit. You see Hunt twitch as he flips through another page. 

Chris flashes you a grin and puts a hand through his hair. “Cool. I mean, not cool, but good. Not that you’re hungry.” He shakes his head. “I’ll just shut up now and see you later.”

You laugh at his shyness. Chris is usually as confident as you are, so it’s kind of fun to see him fluster a little bit. 

_It’s kind of adorable to see him that._

As soon as Chris leaves, an unsettling silence is set in the room. You and Hunt are the only ones in the green room. He still has his back turned to you, and you still have a few minutes left before you have to go into the recording booth. 

He’s also standing against the snack table, perfectly blocking the coffee machine. 

_You know what, maybe tea isn’t so bad…_

You’re about to pour yourself some, when Hunt slides up to you with a cup of water. You didn’t even notice him coming up to you. 

“What’s this?” You ask. 

He shrugged and tapped the rim of the cup. “I recall you having some sort of caffeinated drink almost every day in my class.” His voice wavers on _class._

“Anyway, you look like you really need a beverage to regain your energy. Although I don’t approve of relying on caffeine, hot water with lemon is good for your throat, especially so that you don’t strain your vocal chords.”

You sniff. “Are you saying I look tired, Hunt? Because I totally am, but it’s rude to point it out.”

He rolls his eyes. “I simply overheard that you were fatigued, as one would expect from a heavy schedule. That, and the indescribable way I could feel you glaring at my back as I stood in front of the coffee machine.”

“I wasn’t staring!” You protest, and he shakes his head.

“It’s just water, Jane.” Hunt replies. “It’s nothing to make a spectacle about.”

_Is this him trying to make peace?_

You take it from him tentatively, the tips of your fingers brushing his as you do. “Thanks, I guess.”

He nods seriously. “Take it to your session,” he says, turning on ‘director mode’ again. “We need you and your voice to be in pristine condition for recording.”

“Isn’t it always?” You tease. You don’t wait for his answer and take your cup with you, shooting a dazzling smile at him before you go. 

Your recording session goes well, and you find Hunt was right. The hot water and lemon seemed to do more for preserving your voice than your usual cappuccino. 

You say goodbye to the recording team and find Chris waiting outside for you, as promised. He lights up when he sees you. 

“Hey, you ready?” He shoves his hand in his pocket and uses the other to pat his stomach. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ordering the biggest poutine they have.”

“You have the biggest appetite I know, other than mine,” you giggle. “And that’s a compliment. But I seriously have no idea how you stay in shape.” You playfully punch his abs. 

“My trainer doesn’t let me off the hook, _ever.”_ He widens his eyes. “It’s actually kind of scary. It’s like she can _sense_ when I get off my regular diet.”

You laugh. He holds the door for you as you get into his Porsche. “Woah, what happened to everyone’s favourite old-town heartthrob?” You, raising an eyebrow. When you and Chris were dating, he was still driving the same old car from when he was 16, before all the fame.

He shrugs and winks at you. “What can I say?” He gets into the driver's seat. “It’s been a few years. I outgrew it.”

His car may have changed, but for the most part, he still seems like the old Chris you knew. All smiles and always the other half chiming in to your jokes. 

You arrive at a local burger joint. Thankfully it looks like it’s empty for the most part. The last thing you needed was to get swarmed by paparazzi and get flooded by rumours of you and Chris by the same hour. 

“So,” you say as you slide into a booth across from Chris. “How have you been? I know it’s been a while since we’ve properly been able to catch up.”

He passes you a menu and smiles. “Not as well as you.” He comments. “You’ve been really making a name for yourself. I know people know you for Permanent Wound and for the whole Silver Circle fiasco, but…” He looks in your eyes. “I knew people would see how special you are from the day you came to L.A.”

A tingle races up your arms. You remember the day you and Chris met. You knew who he was immediately, but he was the one who approached you, some random girl in a bar. Not only that, he didn’t _stop_ seeing you, even after that day. His loyalty, above all else, was one of the things you admire about him. 

“I have been doing pretty great, but it’s because of the people around me.” you say humbly. “If it weren’t for my friends and all the people I met along the way, I’d probably be expelled from Hollywood U and on the blacklist.”

Chris shakes his head in disagreement. “Nah. You would never let anything stop you. I’ve never seen you do things halfway, and I’m positive that no matter what, you would have made things work for you.”

You’re touched. “Thank you, Chris.” You say sincerely. “That’s really sweet.”

A waitress comes by then, to take your order. You get a double cheeseburger, silently hoping you wouldn’t regret that decision later. Chris gets a club sandwich. After the two of you order and the waitress disappears, you turn back to Chris. 

“We’ve been talking about me all this time. Let’s talk about you.” You fold your hands and lean in attentively. “I think career-wise, I’m pretty up to date, but how’s your personal life?” 

Chris places a hand on his neck. “Right now, I don’t think I have enough time for a personal life, if I’m being honest.”

“I hear that!” You laugh, and Chris joins in. 

“I promise it’s not always like this,” he assures you. Then he pauses. “Actually, let me get back to you on that. I think I’m so used to a grueling schedule that it’s hard for me to tell when it’s too much.”

You give him a horrified expression. “Oh dear, will I never sleep again?”

He goes completely still. “I’m afraid not.” He says, completely serious. You hold his gaze for a few seconds, daring the other to laugh. He’s the one who breaks by cracking a smile. 

“Man,” he says, chuckling. “I don’t remember if I’ve told you yet, but I missed you.” He gestures between the two of you. “Being with you again, it’s like before. I never had as fun of a time with others as I did with you.”

You’re taken aback by the sudden jump in his compliment. More specifically, the last half of it. 

“I can say the same for you, Chris.” You say earnestly. “You were one of my best friends.”

He lowers his eyes, not quite looking at you anymore. He swallows, and then slowly says, “There’s actually something I wanted to-”

The waitress interrupts you, and hands the two of you your dishes. “Here you both go! One Bacon, and one club.”

“Thanks,” you tell her. She gives the both of you your plates and pours some more water into your cups before moving on. 

“Sorry about that,” you tell Chris. “What were you saying?”

He shakes his head. “Let’s eat first.” He slices his sandwich in half. “Can’t think on an empty stomach!”

You raise an eyebrow comically. “I beg to differ,” you chuckle, but pick up your burger and take a big bite out of it. The greasy food feels good after a long day. You’re eating habits have become so irregular that you’ve only eaten what gets set out on set. If you ever make it back to your dorm room you’re too tired to cook anything up. Eating burgers with no worries about getting to your next scene feels like the most serene thing that could have happened to you in weeks. 

You chew thoughtfully in silence and so does Chris, but you can tell he has something on his mind. _It has to do with earlier… What was he going to ask me?_

You consider his words earlier about thinking on an empty stomach. _Maybe he wants some advice? I hope it’s nothing too serious going on with him._

You lean back in your seat after finishing your burger. As soon as you do, Chris puts what he has left of his down and wipes any remaining oil from his fingers. 

“I’ve never been here before,” you confess, and look around. “I am _definitely_ coming back here for another burger if I can. I’m so damn full, in a good way, of course.” You point to his. “I take it you don’t disagree?”

He nods. “It’s pretty good,” he tells you. He looks distracted. 

You straighten yourself up and say, “What is it, Chris... Is something on your mind?”

“What?” He leans back. “How did you know?”

You can’t help but giggle. “You can’t fool me. C’mon, what is it? Is this about earlier?”

He chuckles, his expression light. “Only you could sense when I’m like that.” His face then turns serious, and he reaches over and places a hand on top of yours. You flinch, ever so slightly, but Chris doesn’t notice. 

“Chris…?”

“I don’t want you to think that I’m spending time with you for selfish reasons,” he says, and immediately you respond with, “Of course not! You wouldn’t do that.”

“You’re right, but…” He looks in your eyes. “There _is_ something that I’ve wanted to talk about with you. For a while now, actually.”

You don’t say anything. Even if you feel a little uneasy, you want to hear him out. The curiosity in you is too much for you to ignore. 

“Stop me if you feel like I’m cornering you, or if you think it’s completely out of this question,” he prefaces, staring at your hand on yours. 

He takes a deep breath. “I haven’t forgotten…” He shifts his gaze to you. “About us. About what we had.”

You don’t say anything, but you don’t remove your hand either. You’re not really sure what to do except to listen to what else he had to say. 

“I know it’s been a long time. But I realize that the reason we broke up was because I moved _way_ too fast.” His voice breaks for a second. “I… don’t apologize for what I felt for you. I _did_ love you, Jane. But even if that was true for me, I shouldn’t have tried so hard to push that love onto you when you weren’t ready.”

“It’s not your fault,” you finally say. “I was young then too. I shouldn’t have freaked out and gotten so insecure.”

“You didn’t freak out.” Chris reminds you. “You made a decision based on what you thought was the best for the both of us. You were totally in the right then, and you were right to do so.”

“Honestly, I can’t argue with you there. Realizing how careless I was with you made me into a more committed and honest person.” You wouldn’t go as far as to say that walking away from Chris was the best decision you ever made, but it certainly made you stronger. 

You feel a prick across your skin. 

_“I don’t mean to use your exact wording,” Hunt prefaces. “But…” He puts a hand on your back. “As you’ve said, you should be stronger because of your experiences. And you are.”_

You remember the earnest way Hunt looked at you then. It wasn’t just respect, it was a shared understanding of the heartbreak you’ve both gone through. 

You also remember how you asked Hunt if he truly learned anything from it. 

“I’m different now too,” says Chris, snapping you out of your thoughts. “And by different, I mean that because of you, I’ve learned to be more aware of others feelings, and when they are and aren’t comfortable.” He stops for a moment to gently squeeze your hand. 

“The reason I’m telling you this is because I want us to try again. Being together, I mean.” Chris says wholeheartedly. “I still have feelings for you Jane, feelings that have never really gone away. I could say more about how I can’t take my eyes off you on set, or how I like who I am when I’m with you, but the bottom line is that, if you agree, we could at least spend more time together.”

You’re stunned. You look at Chris in awe. Whatever you were expecting him to say, this fell far from your standard expectations.

Your mind races. 

_Chris and I broke up for a reason, and we both became stronger because of it._

_But the reasons we broke up were because of certain aspects of our personalities, and those things were technically “fixed”._

_And we do have history. I can’t lie and say that I have no feelings for Chris whatsoever. But are those feelings just nostalgia, or are they from the present?_

Something else comes to your mind. 

_And what about… Hunt._

_No, it’s been months. He shouldn’t be a factor in this at all._

_And besides… He made his decision a long time ago, and his decision was Marianne._

_I’m not going to be heartbroken for the rest of my life. I can’t._

“Chris…” You pull your hand slightly away from his. His face falls and he licks his lips. 

You exhale steadily and turn over your hand so that you can lace your fingers with his. He looks at you, shock written all over his face. 

“Thank you for being honest with me,” you say sincerely. “You have no idea how much I appreciate that. And in return, I need to be honest too.”

“Of course.” Chris agrees.

“There’s someone who’s… not completely gone from my heart yet.” It pains you to admit it, but it's the least you owe to Chris, who’s been nothing but honest with you. “But… I do want to try this with you. I feel good when I’m with you too, and I’m willing to try us again if you can accept that I’m still hurting from someone who haunts me.”

Chris looks a little surprised when you admit that you’re heartbroken over some unknown person, but his eyes soften when you say that you’re willing to try again. 

“I understand,” he says, a grin stretching out over his face. “And I am totally okay to take things at your own pace. Whatever you need, as long as you’re with me.” His grin transitions into a cheeky smile. “Does this mean that we just had our first date?”

You pretend to think for a minute before saying, “I don’t think it qualifies since you asked me out _after_ we had our fill.”

He laughs. “Don’t worry, Jane. Something tells me we have quite a few dates ahead of us. I’ll make up for my mistake.”

“You better,” you chide him, squeezing his hand quickly. “But that all sounds good to me.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you're enjoying the story so far! I've completely diverged from the story, so I want to know if it's working out so far. Comment down below to let me know your thoughts!


	15. Within These Walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a quiz tomorrow but I'm here daydreaming about the upcoming chapters :)

Chris was right; you do get used to the gruesome filming schedule. After a couple weeks you seem to have a good handle on it, though that doesn’t stop you from ranting to Chris about the little sleep you both get. You also get used to being directed by Hunt. You learn his little quirks and habits when he directs a scene, and his behaviour on and off set.

For one, Hunt’s eyebrows are always furrowed during filming, so if they ever raise you know he’s about to stop you and make a correction to the scene. Noticing this has helped you self-correct yourself, making the occurrence of him yelling at you happen less frequently. Another thing that you’ve noticed off set is that he was almost always the last person to leave set at the end of the day, if he ever did. You’ve speculated that he probably sleeps on set somewhere at times, but he’s kept that location hidden very well. 

You also find that Hunt asks for coffee whenever things go well. If the two of you were on friendly terms, you might have teased him for being a hypocrite.

Your relationship with Chris, however, is far beyond where it was when it first started and after a few months, Chris convinces you to announce your relationship to the public. You agree, but let your friends know first. 

They’re all happy for you, as expected. Ethan even offers up a joke about becoming _Chris’s_ manager as well as yours, to which you reply with an eye roll. There’s no initial need to tell anyone at work, but they could all tell by the way you two acted off set and around the studio. 

With just two weeks left in filming, your relationship with Chris is still all over social media. The fans have even given you a nickname. _The Winter Doe._

_It’s definitely creative._ You think to yourself, leafing through tabloid magazines one day. Reading them while you’re taking a break has become a guilty pleasure of yours, but you just can’t help it. Even if they’re saying hurtful things about you, you can’t help but laugh at some of the ridiculous rumours that they come up with. 

“Jane Doe: Diva on set!” You suddenly find another one about you. “It’s been reported that up-and-comer Jane has been known to be rude on set, showing up late, and being ‘difficult to work with’.” 

You roll your eyes with a smile, and flip onto your back, adjusting the couch pillow behind your head as you do. “I showed up late _once_ ,” you say, and top your legs over one another. “And because of traffic! Man, these things are so overdramatic.”

“What did you expect?” You hear a gruff voice behind you. “The media has always been known to exaggerate a small truth and twist it into something that can be exploited for cash and shock value.”

You don’t have to look up to know who the voice belongs to, but you do anyway. Hunt stands behind you, surprisingly with no script in his hand. 

You tilt your head sideways at him. “Where’s your script?” You ask. “I’ve never seen you without it, and I wouldn’t expect to unless you were having a serious medical condition.” You pause. “Well, maybe even then,” you add, and his mouth curves into a small smile. 

“Would you rather I cling to absurd rumours and tabloid magazines like you?” He comments. 

_You seemed to care a lot about rumours before_ , your mind snaps. You push the snarky thought away. You know it wasn’t just rumours that he was afraid of. 

“Hey, these things are pretty funny sometimes.” You say, defending yourself. “I don’t know how you manage to convince yourself to not look at what they’re saying about you.”

He scoffs and shakes his head. “Only people who are more concerned with their ‘image’, rather than the art they produce is truly foolish enough to get wrapped up in all of that.”

You roll your eyes and flip to the next page. To make a point you start reading the first headline aloud. 

_“Chris Winters and Jane Doe: relationship on the rocks or possible ring on the horizon?”_ You stop, realizing what you just read to Hunt. 

You cough, and toss the magazine aside. “Yeah, these things are pretty dumb. Married or broken up?” You try to laugh it off. “They’re so contradicting.”

“Yes,” Hunt agrees, though he sounds distant when he says it. 

An uneasy tension fills the air, and Hunt retreats to another seat across the room. You take out your phone to go on Instagram instead, and you’re met with a picture Chris just posted of the two of you on a date the other day. You smile at the picture of the two of you having dinner together. In the picture Chris is making a show of feeding you gelato with a small spoon, and you’re doing your best not to burst out laughing. 

_It’s a good picture_ , you think to yourself as you like the photo. _I should make this my wallpaper._

Before you can, you get a text from Chris. 

_Hey! I miss you._

_Are you still on set?_

You switch into a sitting position and lean back into the couch. 

_It’s only been an hour since our last shot!_ You text back. _And yeah I am, but I’ll need to leave soon for my fitting._

You’re supposed to get fitted for Rachel’s outfit in her final performance. You’d been killing time up till now, and Chris had gone a couple photoshoots of his own. 

You and Chris spent your times together on set and during breaks too. Even after work you would stay over at his house for a few hours since it was closer to set than the university dorms. 

At times though, you liked having time for yourself. You always found it healthy to have some designated alone time, and it was hard to get some during the filming of the movie. That, and any of the remaining time you had, you spent with Chris. You couldn’t say no to him, not when he’s been nothing short of a great boyfriend. 

You and Chris text back and forth for a while, discussing your upcoming interview. It's supposed to be the first one where the two of you are discussing the movie itself, as well as presenting yourselves as a couple.

“I better go now,” you murmur to yourself a few minutes later. “Addi said that I should at least be at least fifteen minutes early for the shoot.”

The final outfit that Rachel has to wear is a sophisticated dress by the one and only, Marianne Delacroix of Faux Pas Fashions. 

Hunt was the one who requested her expertise for the final dress. Of course. 

You should't have been as surprised as you first were that Hunt had asked his girlfriend (as far as you knew, that all they probably were) to design at least one outfit for the movie marking his ascent back into directing. 

For the fitting though, it’ll just be you and Addison, since she’s been tasked with providing the final alterations. 

“Heading to your fitting?” Hunt asks, also on his way out. 

You nod. “Yep. Standing for an excessive amount of time isn’t my favourite thing to do, but at least it’s the last time I’ll have to do it for this movie.”

He makes an affirmative sound. “I quite dislike it as well. As important as costumes are, fittings can be… well, dull.”

“Dull?” You say amusedly. “Thomas Hunt called something dull? That sounds like an oxymoron.”

You catch the slightest of an eye roll. “I don’t know what you mean,” he says, a whisper of a smile playing at his lips. 

You and Hunt come to a stop in front of the elevators. You glance at him. “Are… you going home now?” 

It's barely past noon. There's no way he's going home. 

_Going to see Marianne, maybe?_

He pushes the elevator ‘down’ button. “Actually I was thinking of heading back to the university to pick up a couple things I left in my office.”

“Ah.” The doors open, and you step inside. He follows from behind and the doors close just as you push the button for the first floor. 

You pretend to text while the floors go down, but you watch Hunt from your peripheral vision. He’s staring straight ahead, but you see him glance over at you once or twice. 

Suddenly, you hear a large scraping sound. “What was that?”

“I have no idea…” Hunt answers, and looks around you two. 

You hear the same scraping noise again, and the elevator slows to a stop. You expect the doors to open, but they stay closed. According to the screen, you’re only on the seventh floor.

“Oh no.” You reach for the doors with your hand. Hunt grabs it and pulls you back.

“What are you doing!” He scolds you. “That’s not safe, Jane.”

You sniff. “You know what else isn't safe?” You point at the doors. “Being stuck in an elevator!”

“That’s no reason to try to pry it open,” he says. “Have you forgotten that there is an emergency help button?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “How are you the calm one right now?”

“Because that’s what every emergent situation calls for,” he says simply, and pushes the emergency button. “Being able to keep a level head is key, and right now you’re not doing a very good job of it.”

_Is he… teasing me?_

“Shut up,” you retort. “Don’t act like you didn’t lose your mind today when that intern _almost_ dropped the microphone prop.”

“That was different. It’s my job to rectify a reckless act.”

“He didn’t drop it!”

“He almost did.”

“Well, we’re not _almost_ going to die here if we don’t get out soon,” you warn him, and place a hand on your hip. You realize that Hunt still hasn’t let go of your hand. It felt so natural, you didn’t notice.

You slip your hand out of his, and his grip opens. He didn’t notice either. 

You hear a few beeping sounds, and then a voice rings out.

“Hi there, this is Hank from security. What can I help you with?”

You open your mouth to talk, but Hunt steps in front of you and cuts you off. 

“Security, you say? I’ll have you know that I, along with one other, are currently stuck in this death box you call an elevator. While I could have some _choice_ words with you right now about the unkempt maintenance of this elevator, I'm more concerned about safety and getting out of here as soon as possible.”

You hear silence, and then a shaky, “Y-Yes sir, right away. Don’t worry, we’ll have you out in a jiffy.”

“See to it that you will,” says Hunt, unimpressed. “I expect help to arrive _within_ the hour.” You can practically hear the venom in his voice. 

“Of course! I… do apologize sir.” You hear another beep, and then silence. 

“Well then.” Hunt steps back and crosses his arms. “That’s that.”

“How do you do that?” You say, biting your lip to keep you from laughing. 

“Do what?”

“Manage to make people tremble in fright with just a few sentences.” 

“It’s all in the way you hold yourself,” he says. His face then turns strangely grim. “But I’ve been beat before, just by a few simple words.”

“Really?” That surprises you. “And who would that be? Who defeated the incomparable Thomas Hunt in a battle of the words?”

“Someone dearly frustrating, I assure you.” He says, but he has a spark in his eyes. 

Your heart starts to beat faster. Your eyes flutter and you quickly look away and make a show of stretching your arms above your head. 

“Damn, what luck, huh?” You say cheerfully. “I better text Addi and tell her I’ll be late.”

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary if those careless security guards do their job, but go ahead, just in case.”

You quickly text Addison that you ran into some trouble and that you could be late. You don’t mention Hunt. 

After that, you put your phone away and sit down. 

“What are you doing?” Hunt can’t help but ask, looking at you half-amused and half-confused. “Tired already?”

“No.” You wrinkle your nose. “I just don’t want to stand here for an unimaginable amount of time, only to then go stand somewhere else for an unimaginable amount of time. It’s called conserving my energy.”

Hunt thinks for a moment, and then joins you on the floor. He sits on the ending side of the elevator, away from you. He also takes off his jacket and lays it beneath him to sit on. It’s a small elevator, so there’s not as much space between the two of you anyway. 

“So…” You’re not sure of what to say to him. “What’s up?”

“Really?” He says, raising an eyebrow. “‘What’s up’?”

“I’m trying to make small talk!”

“If that’s what you call small talk, I’m horrified to think about what your post-production interviews will look like.”

“Fine, then, Thomas,” you say, daring to address him by name. You’ve usually avoided saying his name altogether, only addressing him as Hunt (with other people, of course. With him, you’ve barely needed to call out to him). “You say something instead. I’m equally as nervous for you.”

He’s slightly taken aback that you’ve said his name, but brushes it off. He can’t exactly correct you, since technically he’s no longer your professor and you’re now colleagues. 

“What do you think about the changes I made to the last two scenes?” He crosses one leg on top of the other. “I must admit that I was hesitant about switching the ah…” He searches for the right word. _“Intimate,_ scene and the next where they reach the climax of their relationship and decide to part ways.”

_I ask this man for small talk and he talks about work?_

You give in anyway. “I thought it was a great idea,” you tell him. You fold your hands in your lap. “Having them have sex after they break up felt more purposeful than having them do it before.”

He tilts his head at you, now intrigued. “How so? I mean, I think I know, but I feel as if I’m glazing over the true meaning.”

Blush creeps into your cheeks. You play it off by tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, pulling at your cheek in the process. 

“John and Rachel’s relationship was already so potent in the movie, having sex before they broke up would just be like that typical movie thing where the character gets everything they ever wanted and then almost immediately gets it all ripped apart.” You pause, letting Hunt take in your words. “Your change made their scene so much more purposeful, because that was their goodbye. They had reached the final point in their relationship, and they knew that they weren’t ever going to be together. Them having that one night to say goodbye… It was more than just intimacy, it was closure.”

 _Closure… Did_ I _ever get that?_

_I guess I didn’t need it in the end to move on, but…_

_I wonder what that would have felt like. To feel closure from back then._

“But anyway,” you say, focusing back on Hunt. “I thought you made the right decision.”

He nods, a thoughtful smile on his face. “I thought so too, but… thank you for affirming my decision.”

“If I’m being honest, I’m more shocked that you’re second guessing yourself.” You admit, and cast him a curious glance. “Could I be wrong when I ask if the pressure could be getting to you a bit?”

“I-” He starts to deny, but then swallows. His Adam's apple bobs. “Pressure exists everywhere, all the time. I have a reputation to maintain, and the stakes are higher than ever. One misslip could cost me-”

“Your whole career?” You finish for him, then shake your head. “You’re wrong, Thomas.”

You adjust your position so that you’re facing him. _“You’re_ the one who won the Audrey for Best Picture, Lead Actor and hell, you were the youngest person to ever win Best Director!” You stop for a moment and chuckle. “Granted, you were also called ‘Grouch of the Decade’ by EW, but that’s besides the point.”

“And your point is?” Hunt prompts you, almost… _teasing?_ “Or is this just a chance for you to insult me yet again?”

You give him a light shove. “My _point_ ,” you say. “Is that you have to stop expecting perfection from yourself _all the time_ . If you do, that might just be the thing that holds you back from all the things you _could_ do.”

“And if that imperfection causes my downfall?”

“Then there’s nowhere to go but up.” You chime, and shoot him a bright smile. Hunt looks back at you, expression staggered, and his lips part.

“When I was on probation, I kind of felt the same way as you.” You tense up at the memory. “I nearly gave up. Even with all the people in my corner, it felt like it wasn’t going to be enough to save me. I thought I was going to let everyone down, and that I was a huge failure.”

“What changed your mind?” Hunt asks in a low voice, genuinely interested. 

“You did.” You say it as if it was already obvious. “Remember? I was a person short of a reference at the hearing, and you stepped in and vouched for me. I’m pretty sure you called me ‘narcissistic’’ and ‘entitled’, but the rest of what you said kept me from being expelled from Hollywood U.”

“I simply spoke my mind,” replies Hunt. “It wasn’t about who you are, Jane. It was about who I believe you will eventually become.”

“That’s exactly what you said then!” You laugh. “You really need some new lines, Hunt.”

He lets out a chuckle, and you feel your nerves growing. “To plainly put it, though…” You lock eyes. “I wouldn’t be here without you.”

“Jane…” His eyes soften at you. Your heart is beating more rapidly now and you feel like you’re under attack. Just from the way you both are looking at each other, alarm bells are ringing in your head. 

You break eye contact with him and look away, causing a break in the air. 

Neither of you say anything. You breathe in deep and close your eyes, mentally breaking yourself away from Hunt, and whatever grasp he suddenly had on you. 

_What was that?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fact that this man has people writing fanfics about him should really say something, *cough cough* PIXELBERRY GET THIS MAN MORE SCREEN TIME *cough cough cough*


	16. Elevator's Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fanfic is literally my passion project. <3

It has now been approximately an hour and seven, no, _eight_ minutes. 

“What was the name of the security guard again? Hank?” Hunt scowls. “After we get out of here, I will be contacting his superior and making sure he is _very well_ reprimanded.”

“He’s probably doing his best to get us out of here,” you say, but you’re starting to feel grouchy as well. “Maybe something else went wrong and they’re just trying to fix that first.”

Hunt shakes his head in disbelief. “Their first priority, above all else, is the safety of the occupants in the elevator. I can’t imagine a situation more dire than that.”

“Really?” You cock your eyebrow comically at him. “Getting stuck with me in an elevator is the worst thing in the world?”

Hunt pauses, then says, “You said it, not me.”

 _This is like when we got trapped on the movie set._ You realize. _Only it’s a much smaller space._

_Because of that I’d expect him to be a lot more cut off and rude, but he’s actually nicer than before._

You remember how he was so hell bent on staying as far away from you as possible. That, and being much more aloof and intent on putting space between the two of you.

_“Let’s just find a way out as quickly as possible.” Hunt says. “I don’t want to have to deal with you.”_

You also recall him confessing his feelings for you the next morning. 

_Is he being this way now because I’m with Chris?_

“Care to share your thoughts?” You blink, realizing that Hunt is watching you closely. 

“What?”

“You look like you’re deep in thought,” says Hunt. “That’s all. Considering that it looks like we’ll be here for a bit longer, it’s the better option that staring at the scratches on the walls.”

You chuckle. “Flattering. I’m glad that I’m more exciting than scratched steel.”

“That entirely depends on the quality of your answer,” he replies. “So try not to bore me.”

There’s no way you could actually tell him what you were thinking about. Recalling your time together on set would open a forbidden box you both had safely hidden away. It would be wrong to even think about opening it, especially since it’s been a little over a year since it’s happened. 

You decide to ask a broader question instead. “I guess I was feeling curious…” You lean back into the wall and turn to him. “Why’d you decide to come back to directing all of a sudden? I thought you were done with it. You know, ‘my time has come’ and all.”

Here you were, trying not to mention a past escapade between you and Hunt, but you do it anyway. 

“I don’t think I used those words,” says Hunt anyway, and he looks off into space. “But I suppose to answer your question… I got a calling, perhaps I should say.”

“A calling?” You say incredulously. “My, my. Did an angel descent from heaven and throw a camera in your face?”

He gives you a look. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Though if by ‘angel’, you meant ‘muse’, then you may be something along the right lines…” 

_A muse that is strong enough to get Hunt to come out of an early retirement..._

“I've loved movies for as long as I can remember." He says, a fond smile on his face. "If a theatre full of strangers of all ages and backgrounds can laugh together and cry together and _learn_ together, well, then maybe we're not so doomed as a species after all.” Hunt tells you, sincerity radiating from him. “Movies give me hope.”

You let him go on to speak, not daring to interrupt him while he’s sharing this side of him with you.

He crosses his arms in his lap. “Teaching, as you know, has always been my passion. But…” You spot a glimmer in his eye. “Directing cinema has been my purpose. My calling, if that’s not too flamboyant to say.”

“Not at all,” you tell him. “I know you love both.”

“Oh?” He says, raising an eyebrow.

You nod. “I remember how you would go off on tangents in class about some of your former students and what they’ve gone on to do and how we, if we keep refusing to take your direction, will never end up like them.” You smirk. “You really were adamant on the ‘tough’ portion of ‘tough love’.”

“Of course,” he says automatically. “My job is to prepare my students for the harsh realities of the industry, some of which you’ve probably already experienced first hand.”

“Yeah,’ you agree. You’ve definitely been through the ringer to get where you are. “But I was more talking about how you keep up with your former students. I don’t think I would go as far as to say you would _gush_ about them, but everyone could tell you were really proud of them.”

“They were my students.” Hunt’s voice suddenly turns soft. “Being able to see them take the knowledge and experience I shared with them and use it to make something of themselves…” A small smile forms. “It reminds me why, even without directing, I still have purpose in this life.”

You realize that you haven’t truly seen this part of him in the way you are seeing it now. You know that he’s prioritized his job and did care about his students, but you never realized the depth of it. 

_It gives him purpose._

Guilt floods you, when you remember how you basically asked him to give that all up to have a chance with you. All that purpose, that hope, to put at risk and potentially go down the drain for a romance that was never really established. 

“I’m sorry.” You say, lowering your voice to barely a whisper. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing.” You switch into a cheery smile. “I’m just happy to see you living your life for once.” You poke his shoulder. “It was about time.”

He catches the change in your demeanor but doesn’t question it. “Right…” He says, eyebrows furrowed. “Jane… are you-”

“I’m really excited for the wrap party,” you say, cutting him off. You point your head up to the ceiling and let out a content sigh. “Chris has been to a million of them and he says it's no big deal, but I’ve only been to a handful, and I think they’re going to all seem pretty lame compared to what they’ve prepared for _‘The Last Note’.”_

Hunt wavers at the mention of Chris, but quickly regains himself. “Yes, I would expect someone of Mr. Winters experience to have a fair share of attendance at wrap parties.” He frowns lightly. “I doubt I’ll enjoy myself much either. Unless you manage to find pleasurable company to spend it with, it can be just as dull as a fitting.”

“Really?” You say doubtfully. “I think it’s fun to celebrate a project everyone was so dedicated to. And besides, we’ll have our significant others, so I think their company will be pleasurable enough.” 

You don’t mention Marianne by name, but it’s pretty clear who you’re referencing. 

There’s a twitch in Hunt’s eye, and he nods curtly. 

“It would seem so.” Is all he says. 

You hear a familiar scraping sound, and you scramble to your feet. “Did you hear that?” 

Hunt takes a slower approach, and dusts off his jacket. “No need to fret,” he says. “I imagine they’re finally here.”

He’s right. A few seconds later and the elevator starts moving again. You count down the floors in your head while watching the screen, and the elevator finally reaches the first floor. 

You let out a cheer when it opens, and feel a rush of cool air on your face. You place a hand on your cheek and find that your face is all flushed. 

“It must have been hot in there,” you mutter. Hunt takes a deep breath when he comes out behind you, relief crossing his face. 

A meek man, along with three others, approach you from the sides. “I’m Hank.” He introduces himself to you. “Sorry it took a while, there was something wrong in electrical and I had to call in a few people to get you out.”

You’re about to respond and say it’s okay when Hunt places a hand on your shoulder. “Go,” he says. “Get to your fitting. You may be late but there’s no reason for you to stay here any longer.”

He glares at Hank and the other security guards. “I’ll handle them on my own.”

“Don’t kill them.” You say with an eyebrow raised. “But yeah, I should go. Thanks.”

He takes his hand off your shoulder and you give him a small wave. “See you later.”

You don’t wait for his affirmative nod and high tail it to your car. Once you get inside you turn on the ac to full blast and turn on the radio. You’re immediately met with Masika’s new song, and you feel freedom return to your body. 

_Note to self: Stairs are the way to go. Or, download Tetris._

“Hey, girl!” Addison greets you as you enter the lobby. She’s waiting by the reception desk for you. 

“Hi.” You give her a quick hug. “I’m _so_ sorry I’m late. You’ll never believe what happened.”

“If it happened to you, it must be really funny, or terrible.” Addison giggles. “You’ve always been prone to getting into unique situations.”

“You’re on par with that.” You say, as she leads you down the hall. “I’ll tell you when we’re alone, but for now, you’ve _gotta_ show me some of your designs. I’ve been dying to see what you’ve been up to!”

Addison agrees, and the both of you take a detour to the Junior Fashion department. She introduces you to her work friends, and one of the interns even recognizes you and asks for your signature. 

“You’re _so_ lucky to be dating Chris Winters!” She squeals, and places a hand on her forehead. “I would simply _die_. Please tell me, is he really that charming in real life?”

You can’t help but laugh at this girl’s enthusiasm. “He really is,” you tell her. “I’m very lucky to have him.”

“Is it true that you’re getting married?” She asks eagerly. “Everyone’s seen the photos of him at the jewelers with his brother.”

You and Addison exchange a confused glance. 

You hadn’t seen those. Or heard of him going to the jewelers. 

_Is that why people are speculating that?_

“No, no.” You assure her quickly, smiling. “Chris and I have only been dating for a few months! And besides, I’m pretty sure that’s for Sean. He and his girlfriend have finally decided to tie the knot!”

“Oh, right.” Her shoulders slump a little. “I heard about that too. I guess that’s exciting too.”

“It is,” you agree, but your mind is still stuck on that rumour. 

_Woah, Jane. Chill out. You know how the paps are._

You can almost hear Hunt’s voice in your head, being all disapproving that you’re actually _believing_ a silly tabloid rumour.

“We really should get going.” Addison tells you. “I’ve only got the fitting room booked for so long.”

“Right.” You agree. You and Addison say your goodbyes and head off. 

Addison’s always done a great job of taking your exact measurements, so not many alterations are needed on the dress. Still, she inspects every inch of the dress with a pin cushion on her arm and a tape measure around her neck. 

You’re staring at yourself in the three way mirror while Addison messes with the bottom of your dress. You know she likes to keep concentrated while she’s working so you wait until she’s done checking the first portion of the dress. 

“Okay, let’s take a break.” Addison says after a while and steps back from you. “My hands are getting clammy.”

You laugh and step down from your small platform. You want to sit down in a chair but you can’t, not while the dress is in mid-alteration. 

As if she read your mind, Addison pulls up a stool instead, perfect enough for you to sit on without causing much movement in the dress. 

“So,” she says, and sits down herself. “Want to tell me what happened to you earlier?”

You smooth out the wrinkles in your lap. “In short, I basically got stuck with Hunt in an elevator for an hour and a half.”

“Shut up!” Addison shrieks, and then immediately lowers her voice. “No way. You got stuck in an _elevator_? And with Hunt, of all people.”

“I know, right?” You shake your head in disbelief. “It really was an ‘only Jane’ thing.”

“That must have been really weird for you.” Addison says, amused. “Did you guys end up bickering the whole time?”

“Give me more credit than that!” You protest. “It… actually wasn’t too bad.”

“Really?” Addison raised a brow. “I would have lost my mind! I can imagine him lecturing me the whole time and me trying my best not to scream.”

You can’t help but giggle at the thought. If Addison was in your place, she probably would have been more patient than you were. 

“We mostly talked about work and the wrap parties. Well, _I_ talked mostly about the wrap party.” You say. You then lower your eyes. “But I also got to understand him a bit more, I think.”

“How so?” Addison asks, sensing the change in your tone. 

“I’ve always known that he was passionate about his work, but I don’t think I took the time to understand the depth of it.” You explain. “I was so one-track minded at the time, all I cared about was getting him to admit he had feelings for me. I knew there would be consequences, but I was thoughtless and insensitive to what it would be like for _him.”_

“It’s true that it could have been a huge risk.” Addison agrees. “But I don’t think you should be so quick to call yourself thoughtless and insensitive.”

“But I was,” you say. “I knew there would be consequences, and I still-”

“Aha!” Addison raises a hand to her lips. “You see that? You _were_ aware of the consequences. You always consider the other person, Jane, for as long as I've known you. You’ve taken a lot of risks in your life, and each time, wasn’t there a chance of it all falling apart?”

“I guess so…”

“Exactly. And each one of those times, you made a judgement call on what you knew deep down, is what was right.” Addison tells you. “I think that when it came to Hunt, you knew what the risks would be, but you also knew that your feelings for him surpassed those risks. So much so that you were willing to go against your own fears.”

You never thought of your situation in that way. You’d been so focused on Hunt and trying to access his feelings that you pushed away your own fears. 

As much as there were dire consequences for Hunt if you and him had been found out, there would have been just as many for you. Expulsion, a scandal and a half, and probably more. 

And yet… somehow, your feelings for Hunt were enough for you to grab them by the collar and toss them off the cliff. 

“Maybe you’re right,” you say to Addison. “But that’s all in the past now. I’m dating Chris, and we’re in a good place right now. The same goes for Hunt and Marianne.”

“Marianne?” Addison says, clearly confused. “What do you mean?”

“They’re dating, aren’t they?” You say, and then groan. “Don’t tell me they got engaged. I can’t eventually get engaged _after_ Thomas Hunt does. My ego would be shot.”

“So would I,” Addison chuckles. “But Jane… I think you’ve got it wrong.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Hunt and Marianne aren’t dating.”

You go still. “What?” You say. “They broke up?”

Addison shakes her head. “No, I mean like, they were never dating.”

_What?!_

“But Hunt said-” You burst out, then stop yourself. “Then why would he…”

Addison takes out her phones and opens Instagram. “Yeah. Marianne and her old boyfriend got back together like, a week after Hunt’s dinner party. They’re still dating now.” She shows you a picture of them together at an event.

Along with Hunt, you had also blocked Marianne from all social media and restricted her name from your internet searches to stop you from stalking her constantly. Now, you wish you hadn’t. 

“I didn’t say anything because I thought you knew.” Addison places a hand on yours. “You never talked about Hunt after that day, so I just thought you didn’t want to talk about him anymore and I never brought it up.”

You’re not sure what to think. The you from a year ago would have been practically skipping with glee, but the you now knows better. The you now, knows that just because he didn’t choose Marianne, doesn’t mean he chose you. 

_The most important thing I’ve learned with Chris is that I deserve someone who chooses me. Or at least, chooses me back._

“Jane?” Addison waves a hand in your face humorously to get your attention, but you can see a speck of nervousness. “Are you okay?”

You perk up. “I’m fine,” you tell her, forcing a smile. “Even without Marianne, he never truly chose me. I think that’s the only thing I’m struggling with.” You squeeze her hand lightly in return. “But I’ve moved on. I can’t keep going back to the past and looking for something that was never truly there.”

“If it’s any consolation,” says Addison. “I’m really proud of you.”

You laugh. “Why, thank you Ms. Sinclair.”

“You’re very welcome,” she says in an equally pretentious voice. 

“Let’s finish the rest of this dress.” You say, getting up. “I need to get back to the studio soon.”

“You better not move when I get to your back,” she warns you. “I am _not_ afraid to poke you if you keep fidgeting!”

“I’m a restless soul!” You say back, pretending to be offended. “You can’t keep me down.”

Addison laughs and helps you get back on the platform. “Believe me Jane, we all know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reread my old Hunt fanfic the other day and man... this one is definitely a glow up.


	17. Somewhere Only We Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh I kind of lost myself at the end there, but I hope you enjoy this chapter anyway!

“And that’s a wrap!” 

Matt’s voice echoes across the studio. Instantly, he’s met with applause and cheering from the cast and crew, including you. Even Hunt claps, a satisfied smile on his face. 

Chris wraps an arm around you and kisses your forehead. You grin at him happily.

“I can’t believe it’s already over.” You shake your head in disbelief. “It feels like we started filming just yesterday!”

“I get the feeling,” Chris says. “After every project I have this moment of daze where I think to myself ‘ _did that just really happen’?_ ”

You gaze at your fellow crew members celebrating. There seems to be an unspoken connection that you all have, and a twinge of sadness that it’s all over. After all, you’ve all spent around fifteen hours a day on set for the last few months. You hope that you get to work with some of them again, they really made your first big budget film experience a special one. 

Matt signals out to everyone with a strong hand, and you all go silent. 

He clears his throat. “I just want to quickly say that…” He gestures around the set. “None of this would have been possible with each and every one of you. We’re still not completely done with our journey, but I want all of you to know that your efforts on this film are greatly appreciated, just as your time.”

A couple people behind you whoop. Matt smiles at them and lets out a chuckle.

He pats Hunt, who’s beside him, on the back and nudges him forward. “Thomas? Any parting words for the crew?”

Hunt protests at first, but then concedes. “Very well,” he says. “I won’t repeat Matt’s sentiments, but know that I feel the same way as well. It takes commitment and passion to create a film, and I have no doubt in my mind that this is a project that I, and you all should, be proud of.”

“Wow, I didn’t know he could get this emotional?” You mutter, and Chris stifles a laugh. You gain a quick glance from Hunt, but you just smile back innocently. 

“There’s also one person I feel that deserves, ahem, somewhat _special_ , recognition,” he says, and your heart does a little flip. 

Hunt then turns around and points with an open hand at Tyler. “Mr. Winters.” 

“Who? Me?” Tyler emerges from behind Hunt, a pencil tucked behind his year and notebook clutched in hand.

Hunt nods briskly. “I must admit, I was hesitant about taking on a ‘green’ script,” he says, and then breaks into a small smile. “But I must say, I am impressed by what you have created, and if you continue to raise your ambition and break out from the status quo, I believe a great screenwriter can be born.”

“Wow… I mean, thank you!” Tyler bursts out into a grin. “Coming from you, that means a lot. I’ll continue to do what you said, but I want a moment to thank _you_ .” He turns to the rest of you. “ _All_ of you, really. Jane, Chris,” he addresses you. “Thank you for bringing John and Rachel to life.”

You’re touched. Not just from Tyler’s recognition of you, but _Hunt’s_ recognition of Tyler. 

You get a flashback to the dinner party.

_“It’s some of the most unimaginative ‘art’ I’ve seen.”_

_Has he changed?_ You think to yourself. You watch as Hunt places a hand on Tyler’s shoulder and gives him a respectful nod. 

“That was nice of him, don’t you think?” You ask Chris. 

“He’s my baby brother,” he jokes. “He _better_ be thanking me!”

He thinks you’re talking about Tyler. 

You roll your eyes at him and squeeze his hand. Besides Chris’s joke, you know he’s proud of Tyler too. Especially since he used to feel guilty that Tyler used to get constantly criticized and put under his shadow. 

Truth is, Chris is proud of Tyler, more than anyone. 

“Want to come over?” Chris asks you after the noise dies down. Your jobs are done, so you can go home and get some much needed R&R. “We could spend the rest of the day off at my place.” Chris offers, eyes bright and eager. “You could even stay over…”

“Actually, is it okay if I see you tomorrow?” You say. As much as you like Chris, that designated alone time is way overdue. “I know it sounds strange, but I kind of miss my dorm bed.” You laugh. “True, it’s not 300 thread count sheets, but…”

“No worries, that’s cool with me,” Chris says, but you can see a twinge of disappointment in his eyes. He covers it up by squeezing your hand gently. “I only ask because seeing you is the best part of my day; I don’t really ever want it to stop!”

Chris was usually prone to saying sweet things like that out of the blue, but this time it only makes you feel guilty. You almost change your mind, but you’re determined. 

You give him a quick kiss in consolation and say, “I’ll see you tomorrow at noon, bright and early.”

The both of you, along with Matt and Hunt, are invited as guests on Harrison’s new talk show, _Golden Talks with Harrison!_

You’re supposed to promote the movie, but you know that there will definitely be questions about your relationship with Chris. It doesn’t bother you too much, considering it’s in the hands of Harrison Byrd, your longtime friend and experienced talk show host, rather than someone of the likes of, for example, May Gordon (who you made Ethan state in your contract that you would not be participating in any interviews associated with her). 

The only thing that could be awkward is Hunt being there while you and Chris show off your relationship to the camera and live audience, but if anything, Hunt is professional bound. And besides, anything that happened between the two of you was long in the past. 

Chris perks up at the mention of getting to see you first thing tomorrow, and gives you another kiss before reluctantly letting you go home. 

When you get back to your dorm, you don’t even change into a fresh pair of pyjamas. You’re too exhausted. Happy, but exhausted. You’re too tired to text Addison and Lisa in your group chat about your final day.

You’re planning to flop on your bed and knock out for the next ten hours straight. That is, until you hear a light _ding_ from your phone. 

It’s an email from Matt, labelled _urgent_. You, Chris, Hunt, Tyler and a few more of the main cast are cc’d on it as well. 

_From: MATT_

_Hey team,_

_I’ve officially gotten the go ahead for the premiere location._

_Accommodations, as well as travel, are all taken care of as per your contract(s)._

“Travel?” You say out loud. “The premiere’s not in L.A.?”

You read the rest of the email.

_Attached are the general details below, and a follow up email will come soon with individual details specific to each of you._

_Note that I will also be announcing the premiere tomorrow at the show._

_The details of the trip are as follows…_

The next day, you’re feeling light and refreshed. After going through Matt’s email, you feel rejuvenated, ready to tackle post-filming interviews and promotions. Especially since the prospect of travelling to the mystery location you’re announcing today is on the table. Even though it’ll be for work, it’ll also be like a mini-vacation, which is an added bonus. 

You text Chris that you’re in Harrison’s studio and that you’ll see him soon. First, you have to get your hair and makeup done. While the hair and makeup artist takes care of those, you take the opportunity to text Tyler. 

It’s funny, but you haven’t gotten to hang out with him in a while. He’s been busy behind the scenes while you were battling it out on the frontlines. 

_I think you should be up here too, you know._ You text. _You literally wrote the script! I tried asking Matt, but it was a no go. Sorry I couldn’t convince him._

His response is nothing short of what you’d expect from Tyler. 

_Nah, people like me work behind the scenes. I doubt anyone would recognize me outside of anyone who’s actually deep in the industry, and maybe even then! It wouldn’t do anything to promote the movie if I’m there._

You chuckle, shaking your head slightly. _That’s what you think._

Tyler is prone to second guessing himself, and it often shows in his confidence. Although he’s gotten alot better compared to when you first managed to convince him to do screenwriting at Hollywood U, there came moments like this where you catch bits of his insecurity shining through. 

Still, confidence came with time, and you believe that Tyler will get there. 

Even when you and Chris weren’t together, Tyler was like a little brother to you. He still is, and you care alot about him. 

“Excuse me,” an assistant says after you’re done. “The others are waiting for you on stage. We’ll start shooting in five, so make sure to get to the appropriate spot.”

“Right, thank you,” you tell her. She nods distractedly and rushes off.

_Looks like I’ll be the last one to join._

You find Chris, Hunt and Matt all already sitting on a couch opposite to Harrison’s chair. Harrison isn’t here yet, but you imagine that he’ll arrive on camera instead. He likes big entrances. 

The curtain isn’t raised, but you can hear the crowd chatting enthusiastically behind it. People gave you energy, so hearing them now made your skin tingle with excitement. 

“Jane!” Chris stands up from the couch upon seeing you. He sweeps you up in a hug and gives you a kiss. You let him kiss you for a moment, and then swat him on the head. “No kissing! I just got my makeup done.”

“I was ready to show you off to the world as mine and you reject me?” He shakes his head. “Heartless.”

You bite your lip and smile at him, rolling your eyes in the process. Having a strong and independent personality, you didn’t really approve of him calling you, ‘his to be shown off’. It's the way he specifically says it that rubs you in the wrong way, though you figure he probably didn’t think twice and meant nothing by it. 

You shake it off and take your seat between Chris and Hunt. 

Hunt didn’t really look at you when you came in, but as you settle in to the couch you lock eyes. His eyes float all over you for a moment, and then he looks away. It’s still enough to make your skin tingle. Because of the size of the couch though, which you figure probably _isn’t_ meant to hold four people, your shoulders are practically pressed together. You feel the leather of his suit jacket against your bare skin, and it holds a familiar softness that you had forgotten about.

“I slept on the floor of my living room yesterday,” says Chris, chuckling. “I was so tired, I didn’t even make it to my _bed_ , isn’t that-”

You’re trying to listen to him, but you have something else in your mind that’s distracting you. 

_Does Thomas know about…_

You sneak a small glance at Hunt’s face while Chris talks to you. 

_Of course he knows, you dummy._

_But I wonder how he feels about it._

It’s not like you can tell now, with his classic stone-like expression plastered on his face. Or maybe it’s his ‘pre-talk show’ expression. It was hard to tell them apart, and neither give anything away regardless. 

You look down at his hands and you see them folded together neatly, but his thumb is anxiously scratching the top of his other thumb. 

_He_ is _nervous._

You don't know if it's because of the email or because he's nervous for the show. You silently hope it's the latter.

You don’t know why you expected him not to be at least a little anxious. It’s his first big interview since coming back to directing, after all. He may put up a front at times, but he’s still human. Even Thomas Hunt, pretentious professor and fabled legendary director, is susceptible to some anxiety.

You’re about to say something to him when you hear a round of applause. 

_Did I miss the curtain call?_

Apparently you have, and now the curtain is now going up. The audience is slowly being revealed to you, and you feel goosebumps start to appear.

Harrison is revealed to be in front of the curtain, wearing a classic gold suit and holding a microphone like it’s his birthright. He turns to you for a moment and gives you all a big wink, before turning back to the audience, undoubtedly with the brightest of smiles on his face. 

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Harrison announces, and whips a hand at the four of you. “Our guests! Jane Doe, Chris Winters, Thomas Hunt, and Matt Rogers!”

The applause, which you didn’t think could get any louder, exceeds your expectations. You bite your lip and grin at Chris, but he’s turned to the crowd and waving. He’s just as much of a people person as you are. 

“Alright, alright!” says Harrison after letting the applause go on for a few seconds longer. Instead of going on to sit in the chair behind his desk, he hops straight on it and crosses one leg over the other. 

As he does, Hunt catches your eye. He notices you watching and gives you a small bewildered and amused smile, which you return with a grin. Clearly Hunt has never met Harrison, and didn’t know what to expect. For you, it’s so in character for Harrison, and you’re glad he’s just as upbeat as ever. 

“I’m _so_ glad to see some familiar faces-” He winks at you and Chris. “-And some new ones as well!” 

“It’s been a while, Harrison.” You say, taking the lead. You let out a small laugh. “I believe that last time I saw you was that party on New Years in the fountain?”

The audience laughs as Harrison exaggeratedly rolls his eyes. “Maybe it was, but I was just trying to fulfill rule number 94."

You and Harrison say it simultaneously. "If you don't end every night by jumping off the Santa Monica pier, you're not doing it right!"

You lean back and giggle. "I guess you didn't have the Santa Monica pier on hand, huh?"

Harrison shakes his head with a smile. "Close enough for me! And besides..." He gives you a _gotcha!_ look. "I also remember _you_ falling in right after me!”

"Guilty as charged." You say. "But at least I made it out!"

Harrison snorts. "Don't act like you did that yourself, dear Jane." He turns straight at Chris. “I _wish_ I had a significant other to pull my hammered ass out of the water, but we can’t all be so lucky.”

Chris puts an arm around you. “I couldn’t let my girlfriend drown! She still owed me ten bucks.”

You playfully shove his shoulder, and the audience titters in response. 

_So far, so good._

“Hm, that’s a good idea.” Harrison makes a megaphone shape with his hands and calls out, “New rule! You want someone to save you? Get in their debt and you’ll never die. Simple!”

Hunt lets out a light-mannered chuckle, joined in by Matt. 

Harrison takes the opportunity to transition into the next subject. “As much as I’d love to go on about our mindless adventures, I want to talk to the person who I know everyone’s anxious to hear from.” He leans forward in anticipation. 

“Thomas, I _have_ to start with you.” Harrison says, his head resting on his palms. “How does it feel to be back in the game? I know we’ve all missed that brilliant yet smoldering reputation of yours.”

Both you and Matt stifle a laugh. If it was anyone and anywhere else, you’d expect a glare from Hunt, but he shows no sign of that on his face. 

“The show was never really over,” says Hunt smoothly. “It was rather an… _intermission_ , of sorts.” Of course he has to slip a film metaphor in there. “But otherwise, I’m just as ready to impress as I ever was. Coming back was like riding a bike, you never forget.”

“And how was it working on this film? Do you think it’ll be this year’s blockbuster of the summer?” The screen behind you starts displaying promotion pictures for the movie. You see yourself and Chris as John and Rachel. It switches between pictures as Hunt affirmatively nods. 

“Oh, I assure you,” Hunt says seriously, a determined glint in his eye. “Although I’m not usually one for the musical-romance genre, I wholly stand by _‘The Last Note’._ I know that everyone will be pleasantly satisfied by what we’ve put together for the audience. _”_

“And _that’s_ all the words of praise you’ll get from him ladies and gentlemen!” You interject jokingly to the audience, with a smirk. “I give you, the one and only, Thomas Hunt.”

Hunt is surprised at your sudden interruption, but a cocky smile starts to creep in. “What? Is my enthusiasm not enough?”

“Well it wouldn’t kill you to turn the murderous look you have off when you’re promoting your own movie.” You tease, and point at his frown lines. You nearly touch them, but you pull your hand back. “Killing it at the box office is one thing, but destroying the audience before they even get to see it _probably_ isn’t the best idea?”

You hear people crack up, including Harrison. 

Hunt has a peculiar look on his face. “I could have been imagining it, but I recall Harrison mentioning earlier that you had some incident involving a fountain?” He tilts his head at you and raises a brow. “If you want to talk about drastic measures, perhaps we should discuss you being insistent on always taking the extremist route.”

“Oh my,” you sigh, and slump your shoulders. “I didn’t know that smiling was such a drastic measure! Well... maybe for _you_ , it is.”

The audience is eating it all up. They're loving the banter between you two. You feel light and airy as well, possibly because you can’t remember the last time you joked around with Hunt so freely like this.

Harrison slaps his knee while laughing and wipes a tear from his eye. “Wow! If this is what the dynamic was like on set all those months, that’s a sure sign that this movie will be _great_. Chemistry, as we all know, on set is important, and if you don’t get along with your people…” He slides a finger across his throat in a swift movement. “The final thing is doomed.”

“Yeah, but it’s easy with Jane around,” adds Chris, and pulls you to him tighter. He buries his head in your hair for a moment, but you catch his eyes flicker over to Hunt. 

The audience goes _aww,_ and you blush as he kisses your forehead. You kind of want to hide away from the audience and everyone and sink right back into the cushions. 

Harrison exclaims and then turns to Matt. “Now, Matt, with the time we’ve got left, you said you had a very special announcement you wanted to make?”

Matt nods. “That’s right. For the first time, we are here to announce that the _official_ premiere of _‘The Last Note’_ , will take place in…” He pauses, and the audience holds an anticipated breath. “Madrid, Spain!”

The audience erupts into applause and cheers, and Harrison joins them excitedly. “That’s right, folks!” He calls out. “You heard it here first! _‘The Last Note’_ will officially be premiering in Madrid!”

You all clap, but as you do you watch for Hunt’s expression. He purses his lips and claps along monotonously, but you catch a brief flash of… _fear? Pain?_

It’s all too quick, but for Hunt in public, it screams volumes. He catches you watching and after initial shock, he swallows and you both share a silent moment of understanding. You both know what this means to Hunt.

You had speculated that of all the places in Spain, it was a small chance that Madrid would be the place. But the moment you see Hunt’s reaction to Matt’s announcement, you feel sorry for him. Hunt had never told you _where_ specifically in Spain, but now you know. 

You hold each others’ gazes for a few more seconds before breaking away, returning to the rest of the world and the live studio. 

_Madrid._

_The place where the so called ‘love of his life’ slipped away._

_Yvonne’s home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to leave comments! I love seeing other Hunt Stans <3
> 
> Also I can't wait for the Spain trip arc omg... Y'all aren't ready for this :D


	18. When in Spain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My writing energy is slowly being drained (probably after writing 51000 words nonstop LOL) but here’s the start of the Spain arc!

Packing a week’s worth of clothes shouldn’t be taking as long as it is, but enlisting Addison to help you (mixed with your own indecisiveness) turns one hour into three. It should be noted that you’ve also gotten distracted by talking about, well, _Hunt_. 

“I can’t imagine what it must be like for him,” you say, shaking your head. You pick up a shirt in the ‘Maybe’ pile, and hold it against your chest. 

“Not that one. Too plain for Spain.” Addison jokes, then turns serious. “I don’t think you should be concerned. Madrid is a huge city, and one that he’s never been to. I doubt that Hunt’ll be beside himself with grief from reopened wounds.”

You toss the shirt aside. “That’s true. I guess I’m just worried about him.”

_“She had an old boyfriend back in Spain, and I knew they’d end up married if she went back… I…” A pained look appears. “I wanted her to run away with me. We were supposed to meet at a bus stop near campus the night before her plane left. But I never showed up. So she left and married him. They have a family together now…”_

_“Why didn’t you meet her?”_

_“My career was too important. That decision not to meet her… it ruined me for a while.” He let out a deep sigh. “Deep regret can destroy a man from the inside, Jane.”_

“It was a long time ago, right?” Addison folds a summer dress from the ‘Yes’ pile. “And from when he was a film student, no less!”

“Yeah…” You’re not completely convinced. 

“Jane, trust me,” says Addison reassuringly. “Hunt’s basically a stone warrior. I’m confident that he’ll manage on his own.”

“Stone warrior?” You say, amused. 

She sighs. “I spent the day with Crash yesterday, making his gladiator costume for D’More’s class.” She tosses you a pair of socks to put in your suitcase. “Point is, if you’re _that_ worried about him, you should just ask. Otherwise, don’t think about it!”

_Hunt may be a stone warrior on the outside, but it’s different when he lets his guard down._

_No. Addison’s right, Jane. This isn’t your problem._

_And besides, it’s not like he’s going to weep over being in a place that’s just_ associated _with Yvonne._

“You’re right.” You tell Addison. “I’m going to focus on the movie, and spending time with my boyfriend in Spain!”

“How is Chris, by the way?”

You lay out some jeans on your bed. “Great! He’s as kind as ever,” you say with a wide grin. “He took me cliff diving the other day, and it was _so_ much fun. He carried me in his arms at one point and jumped off!”

“That _does_ sound like fun.” Addison agrees. She pauses, then says, “Have you told him about the Hunt stuff?”

You pause, your hands go still above a skirt. “I… no. I haven’t.”

You had told Chris that there was someone left in your heart when you first began dating. He hasn’t asked since about it. You don’t know whether it’s because he’s trying to respect your privacy or because he’s simply forgotten about it. 

“Should I pack this?” You hold up a pair of sandals, changing the subject. Addison nods. “Definitely,” she says. “It’ll go nicely with the sundress.”

Addison moves over to close your closet. Before she does, you see your masquerade mask sticking out of your bottom drawer. 

_It’s not like I’ll be going to another masquerade anytime soon._ You think as the doors shut. _I really should throw that thing out._

_One of these days, I’ll get to it._

The plane ride, unfortunately, is one of the longer ones. A flight from L.A. to Madrid is around fifteen hours, much longer that you anticipated. 

Thankfully, you’re all in first class, so it’s not terrible. You just can’t stand sitting in one place for too long, and take every opportunity to stretch your legs and take a lap down the aisles. But it’s still a plane, so there’s only so much space you can move around. 

Chris, being used to travelling often, seems perfectly content in his seat. He only gets up a couple times during the flight, but other than that stays in his seat and goes through miscellaneous tasks. You yourself have work to do, considering that you’ll be returning to school after the trip, and catch up on some of the work you’ve missed. 

Tyler is sitting behind the two of you, so you also get to talk to him for a while, but just like you, he has missed homework from Hollywood U. Matt sits in the middle of the plane, and spends the most of his flight asleep. You remember him saying before the flight that he was a nervous flier and usually spent his time sleeping so he wouldn’t be nervous. 

Hunt is in the same row as you, but on the opposite side of the plane. Anytime you look over at him he’s typing away at his laptop with his usual somber expression. You only pass by him twice on your walks, both times when he’s taking a nap. For some reason you thought that he’d be against sleeping in front of people, considering how well he hid where he slept on set, but you guess on a plane he doesn’t.

Both times you pass him you can’t help but peer at him beneath your eyelashes. He doesn’t use a sleeping mask like Matt, which means you get to see his face relaxed and his eyes closed. He still has a slightly furrowed brow, which you take means that a part of his consciousness is still awake.

You assume this because of your night on set, where he was deep asleep and completely serene. 

Towards the end of the ride, your eyes start to get drowsy. Chris offers his shoulder for you to rest on, which you decline only because you’re sure you’ll just fall off in mid-sleep. You lean back against your seat instead and get some shut-eye before you land. 

You wake up at one point and find yourself lying in Chris’s lap. He has one hand around you while he watches the in-flight movie on headphones. You kind of want to get up and back into your original position, which you found the most comfortable, but with Chris and his arm holding you firmly, you just wriggle around to get a bit more space and go back to sleep. 

Amongst the darkness, you stay quietly for a while. 

_“Jane.”_

You hear a voice suddenly, calling you. 

_“Jane.”_ You hear again. _“You have to go.”_

_What? Go where?_

_“Our time’s up. It’s time to go.”_

A jolt of panic runs through you, suddenly rocking you. 

_Wait! No, I don’t want to leave._

_The hell is going on?_

The voice speaks again. _“We can’t stay. You know we can’t.”_

_Yes we can. We can stay._

_I want to stay with you…_

_“...Professor.”_

“Huh? Jane, wake up.” You feel someone shake your shoulder. 

You open your eyes to see Chris above you, chuckling. “I said it’s almost time to go. We’re about to land.” He points at the screen and you see he’s right; you're almost there.

Your heart is pounding as you sit up. “Woah.” You say, rubbing your eyes. “Already? I swear I only closed my eyes for a few minutes.’

“More like two hours,” says Chris, kissing your hand. “And when I tried waking you up the only thing you said was ‘Professor’!”

“What?!” Your eyes go wide.

_Excuse me, what did I say again?_

_I said, 'Professor'?_

“Yeah, were you having some kind of nightmare or something?” Chris teased. “Didn’t get your homework done on time?”

You put a hand through your hair and rest your palm against your cheek. “It must have been that damn essay,” you joke, letting out a shaky laugh. “I was working on it for too long and it must have infiltrated my dreams!”

“I don’t blame you,” says Chris. “I remember when I was a student, that happened to me too. It sucked _hard_. You’re lucky that I saved you from this one.”

“My hero,” you say sarcastically, but add a small smile. 

Your smile is uneasy as Chris puts some headphones back on. You peek over at Hunt, who's fully awake and no longer typing on his laptop. Instead you spot him looking out the window, down at the scenery below. He then turns and faces forward, and bites his lip. 

All you want to do is ask him how he's feeling, or distract him, somehow. But you can't, not while you're so far from him. That, and when it's so difficult to get closer. 

You land without any problems, and you practically skip off of the plane. Chris is right behind you, and you have no idea how he can still be so energetic after that plane ride, especially since he got _no_ sleep. 

The ride to the hotel is thankfully a short one from the airport, and the energy you had taken from the plane is replenishing itself. You spend the ride staring out the window, gleefully looking at Madrid, which is _beautiful_ , and pointing out some areas you recognize (via the internet) to Chris. 

The hotel itself is splendid as well. There’s an old stone fountain right at the entrance and inside you’re immediately met with a well lit lobby and some stunning stone decor. Even Hunt looks pleasantly surprised.

“It’s exactly where I would like to stay in a city like Madrid,” he comments to Matt. “A stately choice.”

“Thanks? I left it in the hands of my assistant, but I’ll pass along the praise.” Matt chuckles, then gestures to the concierge desk. “I’ll go get us checked in and get you all your keys.”

“Thanks, Matt.” You say, and tug on Chris’s sleeve. “It’s late, but do you want to get some dinner?”

“Ah, actually I think I’m going to hit the hay.” He puts a hand on his neck and smiles apologetically. “I’m pretty wiped.”

You nod understandingly. “I can imagine. You were up the whole flight!” You poke his arm. “You should have gotten some sleep, you know.”

“Probably,” he says. “But I was more relying on the fact that if we got here at night, then my sleep schedule wouldn’t be thrown off too much.”

“With the time difference, I think it’ll be anyway,” you giggle. “But it’s fine, you go ahead and get some rest.”

“Want to come with me?” He asks, and slides his arm around your waist. “I promise we’ll actually _sleep_ this time.”

“Chris!” You say, horrified. You peek around to see if anyone heard you. Both Hunt and Tyler are discussing something away from you, but there are other guests around passing by you. 

You lower your voice. “We’re in public.”

“Oh, come on,” he counters, shrugging. “It’s not like anyone doesn’t expect us to act like a couple.”

“But _still_ ,” you say, then sigh. “Just… save those jokes for later okay? When there aren’t so many people around. And our _friends_ aren’t around. I don’t need anyone but us to hear about our sex lives.”

“Lives, meaning, more than one?” He jokes. 

You shoot him a look.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” he says, and shoots you a hopeful smile. “But I still meant what I said before. We can actually get some _zzz’s_ in.”

You stifle a laugh and roll your eyes. “Thanks for the reassurance, but I’m starved. I’m thinking of getting some dinner before I do anything else. Going to sleep hangry isn’t great for my mental state.”

“See, you can’t chastise me for not sleeping when you didn’t eat!” Chris shakes his head. 

“First off, I didn’t chastise.” You point out. “Second, there was no way I was touching airplane food. Do you know what they do to that stuff?” You narrow your eyes. “Because I do, and it ain’t pretty.”

“Since when did you become so dignified?” He teases you.

“Dignified? The week-old pizza in my fridge would disagree.” Is your reply.

Chris laughs as Matt comes up to you both. “Here you both go,” he says, and hands you both your keys. You’re both in separate rooms, and his is across the floor from yours.

Chris says goodnight to you with a quick kiss, and you head over to the help desk. Coincidentally, Hunt is there too. 

“Hey,” you say as you slide up to him. “What’re you up to?”

It might be because he’s still feeling the tiring after effects of the flight, but he offers you a bemused smile. “After that monster of a flight, I was interested in hearing about the hotel restaurant.” 

“Did you eat on the flight?”

He makes a disgusted face. “Of course not. Are you aware of what they _do_ to preserve the food they prepare? The only time I would _think_ of eating _that_ would be if I was abandoned on an island.” He pauses, then adds, “Well, maybe even then.”

You perk up. “That’s what I said!” You laugh. “Chris said I was crazy, but I knew it!”

“I take it that you didn’t eat the whole flight as well?” Hunt chuckles, a glimmer in his eyes. 

“Nope. Not if you don’t count the emergency Pringles I had.” You pat your stomach. “But a growing girl’s gotta eat, you know.”

“You’re a grown woman,” he replies amusedly. “But I’ll take that as a resounding _no_ to my question.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a thick pamphlet, with a pen hooked on one of the edges. He removes the pen and hands the pamphlet to you, his fingers brushing yours as he does. 

“Here, if you want to see some previews of the restaurant.”

“Holy crap, did you bring this with you?” You say with an arched brow. You flip through the pages, and it’s filled with the hotel’s information, as well as featured tourist attractions around Madrid. “I know you’re the prepared type, but this is impressive.”

“Sorry, but I retrieved it from the front.” He smirks. “But please, do continue to be impressed. I wouldn’t want you to be let down.”

You chuckle, and hand the pamphlet back to him. He shakes his head, refusing to take it back. “Keep it. I’ll get another one later.”

“Thanks.” You say, smiling at him. You flip back to the page about the restaurant. “Wow, you were right, the restaurant looks great! I wonder if they’re closed now…”

“They’re not. I was actually attempting to make a last-minute reservation right now.” 

“Mr. Hunt, sir,” says the hotel worker, shaking his head affirmatively behind the desk. “There’s a spot available.” He spots you. “Oh! Are you two together?”

“No!” You and him exclaim simultaneously. 

Hunt clears his throat, then says more calmly, “No. We’re colleagues.”

The hotel worker smiles politely and says, “I ask because we only have that one spot left available in the restaurant. But it's normally a table for a pair, so if you two are willing, I can make a reservation for the both of you.”

“You take it,” says Hunt. “I don’t mind going out instead or retreating to my room altogether.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you tell him, and turn to the worker. “We’ll both go,” you tell him. “A reservation for the both of us is perfect.”

Dinner with Hunt is definitely not the first thing you expected to be doing.

_But when in Rome, right? Or in this case, Spain._

“Jane-” Hunt protests, but you stop him by placing a hand on his arm. 

“It’s just dinner, Thomas,” you say cheerfully. “And besides, it’ll be nice to have some company.” You pause, then say, “If you really want to go out instead, I won’t stop you.”

Hunt looks at you, as if he was assessing his options, then slowly says, “No… no, I won’t go.”

At first you think he means that he won’t come to the restaurant with you, but he then gives his name to the worker to add to the reservation. Your spirits lift, and you flip over the pamphlet he gave you to take a look. You realize he wrote his name on the back of it, and almost laugh out loud. 

_Only Hunt would sign his name on a tourist pamphlet._

You clutch it close to your chest. You’ll need it. 

At least while you’re in Spain, that is. 

After that, you won’t hesitate to throw it away. You won’t need it then.

Until that happens, you’ll keep it close to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll probably be taking a break(not for long though I promise!) so I can refill my Thomas Hunt Fanfic writing energy. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	19. Resisting Deja Vu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay. I said I was going on a break but I already wrote a bit of the chapter so I had to finish it. But seriously, I have a math midterm next week and all that jazz, so the next chapter probably won't be for a while. ANYWAYS, on with the authors note!:
> 
> I love how some things are just universally head cannon, like Hunt being 34 years old. Everyone's just like yeah, he's 34. There are more obviously, though.
> 
> But also man, the MC and Hunt really are soulmates. Goddamn you, Pixelberry. I'm in your debt for creating the basis of their love story.

The restaurant patio ends up being the perfect location, because you and Hunt now have a perfect view of the garden, and are right beside a stunning arrangement of flowers. 

The restaurant itself is dimly lit, but in a way that takes your breath away when you first enter. There are lights everywhere, but in lamps and lanterns. There are also reflective surfaces buried within stone decorations, and even though the restaurant is full, there isn’t much noise. Especially outside, all the remaining sound is drowned out almost completely. 

“It’s so beautiful out here!” You exclaim happily when you get to your table. It’s right beside a ledge separating you and the garden, but some of the plants have stretched over close enough for the both of you to see it up close.

You reach out and touch a couple petals gently. “I have no idea what kind of flower this is, but I need a whole bouquet, immediately.”

Hunt watches you, a bemused smile on his face. “It is stunning,” he agrees, and touches a flower next to him with the tip of his fingers. “I must give my compliments to whoever manages the garden, as well as the stellar idea of placing it in such close proximity to the restaurant.”

“You do that,” you say. “And I’ll leave a five star review on Yelp.”

He laughs, actually laughs. “I suppose both are good ways to show our admiration.”

The waitress comes by to take your order. You get risotto, while he gets a lobster wellington. When the waitress leaves, you can’t help but shuffle in your seat. You’re getting an awful sense of deja vu, and by the way Hunt’s fidgeting with his utensils, so is he. 

You sit up straight and lean forward to start a conversation. “Are you planning to check out any of Madrid’s ‘hot spots’?” You rest your palm against your cheek. “I’ve been talking non-stop about them, and I think Chris is tired of hearing about it all the time.”

“Absolutely,” Hunt says. “I’ve always wanted to see _Teatro Real_ , a famous theatre nearby. I dreamed of going as a child, but it just never ended up happening.”

“Why not?” 

“My work never ended up taking me there, for one,” says Hunt. He lowers his eyes and stares at his napkin cloth. “Among… other things.”

_Or other people._

“Well then,” you say with an understanding smile. “It’s good that things worked out this way, isn’t it? Now you can finally enjoy yourself!”

You genuinely mean what you say. You _are_ glad Hunt can finally enjoy himself in a place that reminds him of a person who he’d rather not remember. Truthfully, you’re happy he’s here at all. 

“And what about you?” Hunt asks, resting his chin on his knuckles. “What are you looking forward to on this trip?”

“Same as you, actually,” you admit. “I know everyone is expecting me to be more excited about the premiere since it’s my first big-name one, and I am, but it’s _Spain_.” You gesture around the two of you. “How could I not get caught up in a place like this?”

“True, but I’ve also seen you just as happy when you’re getting a slice of pizza.” Hunt remarks.

You glare at him. “What’re you implying?”

“That you’re easy to please,” he says, a small smirk on his face. You resist the urge to give him the finger and settle for throwing him a pointed look instead. 

“When you’ve been filming for twelve hours with no food, let’s see how _you_ do.”

“Did you forget who was behind the camera those twelve hours?”

“Shut up.” You say, but you’re smiling. “So sue me for finding the joy in little things.”

“I never said it was bad.” Hunt shifts his gaze to the garden. “In fact, it’s admirable. Sometimes strange, but admirable.”

You’re not expecting the sudden compliment, and it flows through you like water. Hunt’s words wash over you like a cool wave, but then again, they always have. 

When his words are anything but negative, at least. Otherwise, they pierce straight through you like broken glass. 

“...Thanks.” Is all you muster. 

“You’re welcome,’ he says automatically. You roll your eyes at that. 

“I apologize if you feel like you’ve already answered my question, but with all the attractions Madrid has to offer, I was wondering if there was anything specific you’re looking forward to.” He says. “Just as I am particularly interested in _Teatro Real,_ I imagine there’s a place you’re also excited to see.”

You open your mouth, taking a big breath, pause, and then you sink back into your chair and slowly close it. 

“Ah, I guess there are alot of places.” You smile awkwardly and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t want to talk your ear off. I nearly bored Chris to sleep in the plane. I doubt you’d want to end up the same way.”

At the mention of Chris, Hunt twitches, but his face grows more confused as you talk. When you’re done, he raises an eyebrow and tilts his head at you. “What makes you think that I would?”

You shrug.

“I’ll remind you, Jane, that I’m a professor.” He chuckles. “It’s quite literally my job to talk people’s ears off.”

You laugh. “Was that a joke? Because I’m impressed. Not by the joke, of course, but the fact that you can actually make one like that!”

He glares at you a little. “I’m honest, not humourless and heartless.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“I don’t know what you mean by that,” says Hunt, perplexed, then shifts into a small smile. “But in all seriousness, I don’t mind at all.”

You feel more relaxed, and scoot your chair closer to the table so you can rest both your elbows on it. “In that case,” you say, still giggling. “There _are_ a couple _specific_ places I want to see…”

You rattle off the places you’ve bookmarked on your phone, going through details of the where and what and why. You repeat yourself a couple times as a side effect of your gushing, but Hunt doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he doesn’t correct or interrupt you once. He interjects only to ask questions about the places, since you know a lot more than him about it. 

You purposefully only tell him the places you’re planning to go alone, for your own enjoyment. You have a couple places you’d like to visit with just Chris and another separate few that you hopefully can visit as a group, but with Hunt you stick to talking about your own places. 

You’re just about finishing up when the waitress brings the both of your orders. 

“Perfect timing,” says Hunt. 

You hear a low growl come from your stomach and you clutch it. “Yeah, I agree,” you say, eyes wide. “I don’t think my body could have taken a second longer!”

“I think the obscene noise I just heard proves that,” retorts Hunt, a brow raised and a peculiar smile on his face. 

“Hey, at least I’m not staring at my meal like it’s the last one I’ll ever have,” you snap back. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The food is delicious, and it’s safe to say that you’re both satisfied with your meals. That’s not the only thing that feels great, though. There’s a certain aura in the air, swirling around the two of you. It’s like there’s a bubble around the restaurant, keeping the rest of the world out, even though you’re still a part of it. You can’t exactly describe it, but it’s powerful. 

You and Hunt talk some more about Madrid and the premiere, and discuss in detail your plans, as well as crack a couple jokes along the way. 

When dessert rolls around, you order a parfait while he settles for a french vanilla latte the waiteress recommends.

“Thomas…” You say, after you get your desserts. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee. “Though if you’re going to ask if I’m planning on going to that beach event Matt wants us all to go to, the answer to that would be a _no_.”

You chuckle and shake your head. “No, that’s not it, but thanks for the heads up.”

“Go on then,” he says. He put his cup down. “I’m listening.”

“I’ve sort of wanted to ask you this as soon as I found out we were going to Madrid…” You trail off, and see a twist of curiosity in his eyes. You push forward. “How are you feeling? With all of this, I mean. Being in Madrid.”

He takes a deep breath, and doesn’t answer for a minute. “I assume the context in which you’re asking is about Yvonne?”

You nod. “Yeah… I was wondering how you’re holding up.”

“It’s… admittedly less daunting than I thought it would be for me,” he says slowly. “It would be silly of me in the first place to cast off an entire city just because of a person I knew a long time ago, but I have to admit that I was hesitant about coming here.” He lowers his eyes. “I even thought about refusing to come to the premiere at all.”

“What changed your mind?”

He looks back up at you and his jaw clenches. “I realized that I was being immature.” He lets out a chuckle. “As I said before, it would be silly of me to cast off a city because of a person from my past. That, and I was looking forward to seeing the public’s initial reaction to _‘The Last Note’._ I think that any of my… initial resistance has been drowned out by the reality of the present.”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” you tell him. “I was a bit worried, to be honest. But now that I know that you’re fine, everything is good again.”

“You were worried?”

“Only a little,” you say with a smirk. “I knew you were a stone warrior though. I should have known that you’d be okay.”

“Alright, you’ve lost me.” Hunt says, perplexed. “‘Stone warrior’? Where did that suddenly come from?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you say, and wave your hand dismissively. “Point is, if it means anything-” You say, locking eyes with him. “I’m glad you that you decided to come. I’m happy you’re here with the rest of us.”

He gazes at you, his expression turning soft. “I’ll resist the temptation to note that I can take care of myself and settle for a ‘thank you’ instead.”

You feel a dark crimson rise to your cheeks. _Um, okay, stop it, Jane._

You cover it up by tucking strands of hair behind your ears, and rub at your cheekbones in the process. _Chill out! Why am I like this right now?_

The waiter comes by with the check then, to your relief. Hunt reaches for it, but you get to it first. 

“It’s on me,” you say, wagging a finger at him. “I dragged you here after all. I practically forced you to share a meal with me.”

Hunt raises a hand in defeat, backing down. “I wouldn’t say _dragged_ or _forced_ , but I’m impartial either way.”

You pay, and then the two of you head out from the restaurant. The sky is completely dark at this point, but the hotel paths are well lit by large trees with interwoven lights. You and Hunt walk side by side, in silence. It’s not awkward, it’s more of a comfortable silence. 

You’re not sure what to talk about anyway, and you’re glad you don’t have to or that he doesn’t force you to. 

When you get back to the lobby in the hotel, you walk over to the front of an elevator and simultaneously pause. You bite your lip and the two of you exchange a funny look. 

“Stairs?” You say, and he nods courteously. “Absolutely.”

Everyone’s rooms are on the fifth floor, so you don’t walk upstairs for long. The stairwells however, unlike the rest of the hotel, smell more potently of cigarette smoke instead of warm honey. The two of you hold your breaths the best you can while trying not to lose composure all the way up. You wrinkle your nose at him and hold your sides to keep from laughing.

When you finally get to your floor and back into the regular hallways, you let out a huge breath while Hunt slowly exhales and runs a hand through his hair. 

“I should have known every seemingly perfect commodity has its flaws,” he says, his cheeks slightly flushed. 

“Yeah, but I’m more willing to accept a _questionably_ smelly stairwell in exchange for the rest of the hotel being basically perfect.” You straighten your back and stretch your arm. “And besides, we chose to take the unconventional route, so we’re partly to blame.”

“I wouldn’t say blame, but at least we got some exercise.”

“Exercise my ass. It was more like trying not to die and inhale the fumes.”

Hunt chuckles, and pulls his key out from his pocket. “I must admit, I didn’t expect to spend my first evening in Spain with you, but, well…” He smiles at you. “Thank you. For the company, I mean.”

You feel your stomach stirring, flipping inside out. 

_Food poisoning?_

_I should go back to my room._

You offer Hunt a weak smile, and take out your key. You’re in room 304.

You turn to walk into the hallway on your right. You expect Hunt to go towards the left, but instead he walks with you. 

You both keep walking, until you can’t take it anymore.

“Um, what room are you in?” You ask, and he flashes the key at you. 

“306,” he says. 

“You’re right beside me?” You exclaim, feeling dizzy.

“You’re in 308?” He asks, surprise registering on his face as well. 

You shake you head. “I’m 304. On your left.” You laugh awkwardly, and put a hand on your neck. “Crazy coincidence, huh?”

“I presumed that you would be staying with Mr. Winters-” His mouth snaps shut and he backtracks. “I apologize, it’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You’re good,’ you reassure him, then quickly say, “I mean, not good, but, er-”

You press your key against the lock and you hear a soft click. “Anyways, goodnight!”

“Goodnight..” You hear him say before you shut the door behind you.

You lean against the door and look through the peep hole. Hunt’s still standing in front of your door, as if in a daze. He then shakes himself out of it, and retreats to the right, to his room. 

You feel frozen in place. Your outfit suddenly feels too tight and you can’t breathe. You slink down against the door instead, and sit on your calves. 

A voice in your head says, _Should I call Chris? Or go see him?_

You scrap that thought. He’s just as cranky as you when someone wakes you up. You don’t want to bother him while he gets some sleep. 

There was also the chance that he might ask you to stay with him, which you don’t really feel like doing right now. You’re not really sure what you _do_ want to do in this moment. Your mind and body both feel stuck in place. 

_It’s late,_ you think to yourself. _I’m running on two hours of sleep and I just had dinner._

_First off, I gotta change into some pyjamas._

That is something easy and simple that you can agree with. 

But even with that thought, your feet don’t move. You just sit there and stare at the carpet, not saying a word. Your mind tries to form a thought, but some part of you stops it before it can. In this moment all you can do is exist, and not recognize the turmoil running through your veins, fighting against your every instinct, to be acknowledged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I use ALOT of Hunt canons in this fanfic, or just in general Hollywood U canons. Can you spot them? Haha!
> 
> For example, Harrison's rules, general dialog, references to past quests, etc. 
> 
> I do it because if I was a reader I'd probably be like OMG I REMEMBER THAT FROM THE GAME and just feel more connected to the story. I've also used a very small few canon facts of Hunt from RCD, but I stick to Hollywood U mostly for now. 
> 
> ANYWAYS, I'm actually gonna take a break now, so I'll see you later!


End file.
